Angels and Demons
by Liebesbrief
Summary: Chapter 10...'“Mmm…we should start a coma club,” he said a little woozily, “We’d have at least two guaranteed members.” AngelRogueGambit
1. Rogue Resolution

**"Angels and Demons"  
****By: **Luna Mae  
**Published On: **6 June 2006  
**Chapter One  
**"**Rogue Resolution"**

**X**

The cave was whispering to him, beckoning him to enter. The crevice was wedged into the side of the cliff that could quite have easily been overlooked by the few that passed it by.

But _he _knew where to look for it. It first came to him in a vivid dream when he was only a child, but the reoccurrence of the depiction of the cliff for the years that came led him to believe that he was _destined _to find it. A higher power had chosen _him_ to unlock one of the greatest secrets, untold to mankind.

He was the Chosen One, and he would stand beside his master as he watched him rise to power, armies crumbling before him, countries bowing down to him as though he were the god supreme.

The inside of the chamber held a geometric structure that of the pentagon, but was small and cramped with pictures and ancient writings covering every possible square inch. The man spent hours just attempting to uncover the opening message; just the _name _of man who was above all mortals; he who had been sealed away in that very location.

The cave was urging him to succeed.

Tiredly, he grinned in triumph as he studied the name before him.

En Sabah Nur 

The First One.

He had purchased dozens of Harvard textbooks on the study of ancient runes and hieroglyphs just for this event in his life and spent seven nights inside this cave, uncovering and trying to understand the pictographs and clues that his master had hidden so carefully for only his eyes to discover.

Working on the final corner of the room, the explorer was stunned as he studied one of the final messages

Tantum Filiolus Es Licitus Ineo 

It was Latin, he realised, fascinated. This person—no, _god—_had been _thousands _of years ahead of his time! It was positively astounding, he thought.

He dropped his papers and textbooks, placed his palms against the wall and was enveloped in a blinding light.

**X**

**Chapter One:  
****Rogue Resolution**

Before Kurt Wagner, or _Nightcrawler_ as he was once commonly called, had left the United States to return to his home in Germany, Rogue had confronted him about his opinions of God.

She had asked him why God allows so many people to suffer daily while other less deserving people are cushioned and safe from harm. Rogue told him that it wasn't fair.

Mr. Wagner had answered in that amusing German-native tongue of his, "Mother Theresa vonce said, _Gott does not give me more zan I can handle. I just vish he didn't trust me so much. _Perhaps _Gott_ trusts you very much, ne?" Mr. Wagner, like many others, had known how much trouble she had with her powers.

Rogue laughed darkly, "Or maybe he just doesn't trust me at all," He would forever deny her the pleasure and consequences of trust.

Mr. Wagner left the institute nearly two weeks after Jean Grey's _first _death. On the day of his departure, Rogue realised that the man who called himself Nightcrawler had left her a small wrapped gift on her dresser. It wasn't done up in ribbons or bows and she easily lifted the lid and poured out the box's contents into her gloved palm.

It was his rosary.

Inside the box was a small message that read: _God does not forsake any of his children._

The gesture made her smile softly, but when the opportunity of The Cure first presented itself, Marie had nearly jumped at the chance to be rid of her god-forsaken powers.

_Perhaps Gott trusts you very much, ne?_

Kurt had been able to accept himself for who he was, blue fur, tail and skin and all, but Rogue could not.

She learned after several months of living at the Xavier's Institute that there was more to her powers than she had originally expected. Professor X had taken her aside from her classes one day to give her a full evaluation of her powers after she had begun to have major migraines.

The feels-like-there's-a-sledgehammer-pounding-away kind of migraines.

Professor Xavier had informed her headaches were psyche residues, or slivers of personalities of the people she had absorbed. They developed just as she did, and had opinions just as she did, they were still people; they just lived in her mind.

"They will always be with you, Rogue," the professor said softly, "They're a part of you now,"

Rogue didn't want the company.

They were loud and obnoxious and sometimes she could catch their voices like they were whispers around the corner. Rogue had nearly broke down and cried when she went to the Professor for help.

"They're developing with your mutation," he told her, "It's part of a growing up,"

"Can I get rid of them?" she asked desperately.

He shook his head, "No, but I may be able to set up a barrier like I did for Jean," at the time, Rogue hadn't understood what he meant, "It should be fairly less complicated,"

For the next several months, hours were taken out of her daily schedule for meditation time with Professor Xavier to set up a nearly solid (so to speak) barrier to keep the _psyches, _as he called them, from interfering with her daily life.

Rogue had nearly perfected her "shield" as they called it by the time she had given up and chose The Cure instead.

Perhaps it was because Rogue felt like she had tirelessly worn the role of the damsel in distress. She had failed to do anything productive when people like Magneto used her own powers against herself, the X-Men, and the _United Nation's _members on Liberty Island. Or perhaps it _was_ because of a boy, like Logan had suspected. Maybe she had been afraid of losing Bobby; the one form of stability she had in her life.

But then there were days when Rogue felt like she could spend hours just sitting in the perfect quietness in her room.

Even with her powers gone, she had always worried that Bobby would only stick around until someone better came along. She had his memories from the brief physical contacts they shared together and Rogue knew that Bobby was a good person with equally as good intentions. She knew that he would never hurt her, which was why she didn't want to hurt him in return.

He wasn't happy in their relationship like he once had been before, so they agreed to break things off one month ago, if only for the time being. It had only been two months after Jean Grey's _second _untimely death. Rogue's losses kept her in daily depressions, but this time with no Bobby to help her through things like he had before. He was still a friend, but he had his own problems.

Ororo had taken over their X-Men and Xavier Institute with, oddly enough, Logan right beside her to help. He had decided to settle down and take over some classes: mechanics, P.E., defensive combat and, to much amusement all around, _art_. It felt good having Logan close by, even though he was often busy or occupied, because no matter how much he denied it, he was Rogue's father figure.

Rogue was going home. She was a senior student at Xavier's and as soon as she graduated, Rogue had decided on taking a motorcycle (preferably Logan's) down to Mississippi to clear the air with her parents and maybe even Cody if she could muster the courage. She hadn't exactly left any of them on good terms. She had always wanted to take her own road trip, she had told Bobby once.

Again, it was nearly three months after the death of Jean, Scott, and the Professor when everyone was out in the backyard for a mutant field day or something just as equally ridiculous, she thought, when there came a knock on the mansion's door.

Knocking on the front door was a strange occurrence. Bullets, shattering glass, or even that rarely used depressing gong-like doorbell was what was usually expected in a school for mutants. Knocking on the front door was, well, almost _too _normal.

It was Rogue who answered, since she had decided against the day's festivities, "Hello?" she said, opening the door.

"Hey," a woman with short blonde hair and misty blue eyes answered, "This Mutant High?"

Rogue bristled only slightly at the name, "Yeah, come on in," She held the door open wider and allowed the girl to enter, briefly wondering how she had made it over the locked gates with two matching Burberry suitcases at hand. "You looking for a person or place to stay?" A standard question, but by looking at the suitcases, Rogue had her suspicions.

The girl was looking down the hallways that Rogue was leading her down with an approving look, "I just need a place to crash for a while,"

Rogue slowed her pace to a near halt, "This isn't a hotel, you know,"

The girl rolled her eyes, "I'm just having some trouble with my powers and the military won't accept me until I can harness them better," she snapped.

They remained silent once they resumed their walk to Ororo's new office.

"Sooo, where to, Goth-gal?" She asked.

Clenching her fists, Rogue answered tightly, "Well, for one, I'm taking you to get registered, and two, I'm _not_ gothic,"

"If you're not gothic, then why do you where so much black?"

Rogue was growing more and more impatient with this woman as she answered, "Maybe because I'm in _mourning,_" It was true. More black seemed to be added to her wardrobe ever since the incident at Alkali Lake.

She looked surprised, "Really? Who died?"

The blatant honestly and almost rude attitude was clearly annoying Rogue, "Three of our professors."

"Woah,"

Neither spoke another world until they reached the office and the woman dropped her suitcases and helped herself to a chair. Rogue shifted through papers and pulled out a blank registration form. Leaning against the desk, Rogue clicked open a pen, "Name?"

"Carol Danvers. That's C-A-R—"

"I've got it, thanks," Rogue said curtly, "Birthday?"

"July sixteenth,"

"Age?"

"Nineteen,"

"Family?"

"Mom and step-dad. Allison and David Danvers."

"What's your mutation?" Rogue always hated this part.

"Um, scientifically? I don't really know. But I can fly, I've got super strength, and I'm invincible," she grinned, "Oh! And there's kind of another one. You know how, like, in the _Spiderman _movies Peter Parker always knows when something's coming up from behind him? It's kind of like that,"

"A sixth sense?"

Carol scrunched her nose, "No way! I don't see _dead people!_"

"Right, sorry," Rogue rolled her eyes as she scribbled out her information on the papers. They were great powers to have, she though enviously. She was the regular super-girl.

The interview continued in a similar manner for another five minutes and Rogue escorted Carol to her room that she would be sharing with two other girls and dropped off her luggage before taking her on the basic tour of the school. She told Carol that she would probably be able to join in the regular classes in a day or so, or at least until the school could set up her syllabus. They had nearly finished when Carol caught a glimpse of the backyard through a window.

"Hey, let's go outside!"

Rogue grunted, but slowly followed.

The school was playing a game of mutant softball and few even noticed their appearance.

Carol nudged her, "Who's the hot guy showing that kid how to bat?" she asked, grinning widely.

Rogue turned and stared numbly, "You mean _Logan?"_

"Boyfriend?" asked Carol.

"Hardly," she snorted, "The man's practically my father,"

"So I suppose it would be totally awkward if I were to date him, right?"

There was something not so deep within Rogue that made he want to strangle Carol as she attempted to get over her audacity, "He's still in love with one of the professors that died a couple months ago,"

"Bummer," said Carol, not noticing how red Rogue's face was turning.

The week seemed only to go down hill from there. Everyone was so enthralled by the resident super-girl who didn't hesitate to demonstrate her powers or tell stories about her stepfather in the military. Rogue never had stories like that to tell. Somehow she didn't think telling everyone about Magneto's attempt to kill her would merit much laughter or favouritism like _Carol's_ stories did.

Rogue watched enviously as Carol zoomed about the mansion like she owned the place, challenged Piotr to arm wrestling contests, and proved to everyone that no force on earth could injure her.

Soon enough, Carol was joining everyone in self-defence classes. This was something in particular that Rogue had been rather apprehensive about. Because of her lack of useful power, she had signed up for as many martial arts and self-defence classes that the school offered after Logan left to search for his past in Alkali Lake almost a year ago. She had secretly hoped that he would be proud of her upon his return, because she had only ever had few be impressed or proud of her before, especially now more than ever because of her lack of mutant power.

She was in the mansion's backyard with about fifty other students including Carol for another lesson in physical combat being taught by Logan. Other than the Danger Room that was currently occupied, only the ballroom could hold that many students for self-defence lessons; it felt like the classes were only getting bigger with the lack of professors.

Rogue always volunteered to assist Logan in his classes just to prove that even though he powers were gone, she was not powerless.

However, on that particular day, Rogue found herself face flat on the ground with Logan twisting her arm.

"You dropped your weight to quickly, Stripes. Wait until you get a better angle next time," he said to her, pulling Rogue to her feet. Then more loudly, he addressed the class, "Who can tell me her mistakes?"

She hated when she made mistakes. She hated it even more so when others pointed them out to her, reminding her that she wasn't perfect. Rogue made a conscious effort to close her ears to their comments.

"Rogue?" said Logan, pulling her out of her reverie, "I want you to pair up with Carol, it looks like she's struggling a bit,"

She didn't want to.

"Sure, no problem," said Rogue and then did what she was told. Pulling Carol away from the rest of the group, she said, "I think you're main problem is that you tend to favour—"

"Can Mr. Logan help me instead?" Carol asked, looking over Rogue's shoulder.

"No," she gritted, "He's teaching the rest of the class. He asked me to help you because you were lagging behind."

She blinked and then chuckled a bit, "Oh, then I wouldn't have totally blown those last few exercises if I had known he wasn't going to help."

Rogue swallowed angrily, but said, quite coolly, "So you know how to fight then?"

"A blue belt in karate!" she answered back proudly.

"That's a bit beyond this beginners course," Rogue said, a plan on how to let out her frustrations quickly forming.

"You any good?" Carl asked slyly.

Rogue shrugged vaguely, "I get on well enough,"

They said nothing, silently sizing up the other until Logan called over, "Get moving, you two!"

"Well I'm a bit bored with all of this kitty stuff," Carol decided, "Why don't we warm up a bit for real?"

Rogue gave Carol her very first grin of the day, getting into a fight stance as did Carol. She wasted no time with a quick frontal assault that Rogue was able to easily dodge and delivered a kick of her own that hit Carol in the side.

They were testing boundaries. Everything was slightly more than predictable, a kick, a punch, and a dodge here and there. They were mixing common street scraps that they each had picked up on their own, and refined martial arts that they had studied.

Logan had yet to notice that Carol was quite adept to self-defence as he was attempting to fix a younger girl's posture.

Carol and Rogue's fight was sporting fine and minimal injuries were sustained. Rogue was even impressed to see Carol reigning in her mutant power advantages, but she always seemed to be a step ahead.

"So you're the resident vampire, huh?" said Carol as she ducked another jab. Rogue faltered and Carol was able to nail her in the stomach, "Or at least you were until you got The Cure, so I've heard. And you're also the chick who almost killed Mr. Logan, right?" Another falter on Rogue's part and another kick delivered from Carol. "So how come you lose your powers and you still get to stay here?"

"I've got friends here," she was able to grunt out.

Carol contemplated this fact, "Huh," was all she said, still fighting amiably, "You know, you look awfully uptight."

"Okay," Rogue answered shortly.

"Well now that you've ditched your powers, why don't you just get a boyfriend? You look like you could due with a little corruption,"

Rogue couldn't help but blush as Carol ignorantly picked apart her personality. She twisted her body and dropped out of the hold Carol had and set up her arm in a ninety-degree angle to block what promised to be a painful punch.

She smirked, "And some hair dye, _hun_. I find it hard to believe that you're not gothic,"

"I'm—not—gothic, _hun,_" Rogue sneered and sent forth a rather powerful left hook.

Carol stumbled back, a hand to her jaw, looking impressed, "Alright! Now that we've finally got some _attitude _from the girl, let's spice things up a bit, yeah?"

"Rogue! Carol!" Logan had finally noticed them.

She had a hard time believing that Carol had even _more _power and stamina behind her; Rogue had been going at her at full force.

Carol managed to tackle her to the ground and Rogue suspected the used of her powers as she was pinned to the ground with unusual ease. Carol had her Rogue's wrists pinned to the ground near her head.

"Both you!" Logan yelled, becoming increasingly bothered, moving towards the crowd of onlookers, "Let go _now!"_

But Carol was in control. She had saddled her too high and Rogue couldn't kick her off. "Come on, you don't need _him _to save you," her eye skirted over where Logan was hurriedly pushing through the crowd.

"Let go," Rogue choked out, something painful was stirring in her chest and she wasn't quite sure what.

"Jeez, I expected so much more from a girl who calls herself _The Rogue. _You're making it too easy for me, babe!"

Rogue blinked back tears, "_Carol," _she gasped out, _"Let go!"_

Suddenly, Carol didn't look so confident. She looked like she was being drained of all her energy and. Like her powers were being painfully torn away from her body.

"_Let go!" _Rogue sobbed. It was just like Liberty Island, "_Please!" _

Both girls screamed out in anguish.

It wasn't until Logan pulled back Carol's unconscious body was Rogue able to stumble backwards on her feet, holding her wrists to her chest as though she had been badly burnt.

Her legs gave out from underneath her.

"_Marie!"_

As she lost consciousness, she was sure of one thing:

Her powers had returned.

X

"_I just touched him…" she sobbed._

"_Marie—"_

"_DON'T TOUCH ME!"_

"_Where am I supposed to go?" she asked, sounding annoyed. She hadn't expected for him to dump her on the side of the road._

"_I don't know," he threw her stuff in the snow._

"_You don't know, or you don't care?" she asked._

"_Pick one,"_

"_I saved your life!"_

"_No you didn't,"_

"_I'm not gonna hurt you kid," the man said but Rogue couldn't help but be doubtful of the man who shot knives out of his knuckles._

_She shook her head, "It's nothing personal. It's just that, when people touch my skin, something happens,"_

"_What?"_

_She shrugged, "I don't know, they just get hurt."_

_He shrugged as well, "Fair enough. So, what kind of name is Rogue?"_

"_I don't know," she admitted, "What kind of name is Wolverine? _

"_My name is Logan," For some reason, the name seemed to suit him well._

"_Marie,"_

"_America was going to be the land of tolerance. Peace," Magneto told her. _

_Rogue asked him suddenly, "Are you going to kill me?"_

_He turned around completely, almost surprised that she had asked for he had assumed that it was implied, "Yes,"_

"_I don't want to hurt you," she whispered as their classmates snickered._

_She ran up to Logan and embraced him in a tight hug, careful to avoid any skin contact._

"_Who's this guy?" he asked, sounding rather fatherly._

_She grinned, "This is Bobby, he's my..."_

"_I'm her boyfriend," he said for her and shook Logan's hand, "Call me Iceman," Rogue rolled her eyes and pretended not to notice his possessiveness._

"_Boyfriend?" he said suspiciously, "So how do you guys...? _

_Bobby and Marie exchanged looks._

"_Well, we're still working on that," said Bobby, looking embarrassed._

"_Have you ever wanted to be with someone so badly, but you can't?" Rogue recalled Bobby saying from a memory she absorbed, "I've seen how you look at Professor Grey…"_

_Logan's head snapped up, "_Excuse me?_"_

"_Nothin'…"_

_Bobby walked into the guest room with some long-sleeved clothes at hand, "I found some of my Mom's old clothes. I think they're from before I was born."_

_Rogue smirked, "Groovy,"_

"_You don't seem fine," he followed her out of the room, "You seem like you're avoiding me, I_ mean _something's wrong."_

_Marie whirled around angrily, "What's wrong is I can't touch my boyfriend without killing him," she snapped, "Other than that I'm wonderful. _

_Bobby folded his arms defensively, "Hey, I don't think that's fair. Have I ever put any pressure on you?"_

"_You're a guy Bobby," she said, pulling a face, "Your mind's only on one thing._

"_I'm not your father, kid,"_

_She stood as Bobby opened the door, "I'm sorry, I had to..."_

_He looked so unsure of what to say, "This isn't what I wanted,"_

"_I know," she smiled softly, taking his hand, "It's what I want."_

_And it was._

X

The lights of the Med Bay were straining to her eyes as she woke up alone in the room. The monitors were beeping steadily, showing her that her vitals were just fine.

"Hello?" she said into the barren room, hoping for an answer.

Why was she in the Med Bay…?

Rogue quickly pulled off the wires attached to her major pulse points and temples, groaning at the screaming machine that wasn't receiving any feed. She slid out of bed and into her shoes, having the full intention of looking for some one who could explain what was going on.

As she approached the main level, she glanced at a clock that told her everyone was more than likely still asleep at the hour.

Her stomach growled, alerting her that she could do with some food sometime in the near future. Rogue made herself a standard peanut butter and jelly sandwich like she did everyday with a tall glass of milk. The jelly was grape, but required Rogue to fervently wash the stickiness off of her hands.

Some one was near the doorway, she realised, not quite sure how she knew, but turned around in her chair.

"Hey, Logan," she said calmly.

"Hey, yourself," He answered, lifting his head in recognition, "Why aren't you in the Med Bay?" he asked, leaning against the doorway.

Rogue frowned. She felt fine; never better actually.

"I…don't know," she answered honestly. Another set of footsteps was heard running down the hall.

"Logan—" Ororo called out frantically.

"I've found her, Storm," Logan said over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Rogue, "She's in the kitchen,"

Since when had she been missing…?

Ororo quickly joined them.

"Rogue, are you alright?" she asked immediately.

"I'm fine," she answered defensively, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Logan and Ororo exchanged nervous glances hat increased Rogue's worry as she slowly put down the sandwich and stood.

"You've been unconscious since yesterday, Rogue," said Logan looking at her with concern.

"Don't you remember what happened?" Ororo asked.

"Remember wha—?" Rogue suddenly let out a startled and painful gasp and clutched her head, knocking over her glass that shattered on contact with the floor.

"_Of course you would forget me!" _a voice yelled at her.

"Forget who?" Rogue yelled back from her knees as Logan and Ororo surrounded her.

"Marie, what's going—?"

"_You've only ruined my life!" _It was Carol's voice, Rouge realised, shocked. She could hear her _inside her head._

"I'm sorry!" Her face was streaked with tears and she tried to shake her head furiously.

"Rogue? Rogue, what's happening?" she could make out Ororo's voice over the memory of the physical fight between her and Carol as her power's painful return.

"It's Carol," Rogue gasped out, dragging her unprotected hands behind her ears trying to shut out the pain, "She—she's in…_my head_,"

"Fight her, Rogue!" she heard Logan command and brace her shoulders.

"I-I can't," she sobbed hysterically, "She's too strong!"

Ororo placed her hands onto of Rogue's head, protected by her hair and said to her, "Shut her out, Rogue. Put up a mental barrier like the professor taught you!" Ororo must have gone through Professor Xavier's files.

Rogue made incomprehensible noises as she attempted to shut Carol out as her old psyches invaded her mind as well, "_I can't!" _she cried out before flying through the glass windows and pummelled to the ground, leaving a crater of an imprint on the lawn.

_Perhaps Gott trusts you very much, ne?_

X

This time waking up in the Med Bay was more surreal. Rogue remembered everything from her fight with Carol to the incident in the kitchen with Logan and Ororo.

She had succeeded in locking Carol out of her mind, just as she did with the psyches.

Rogue blinked at the lights in the ceiling and tilted her head up as she heard footsteps enter her room.

"Hey," Ororo said softly, sitting at the foot of her bed, "How you feeling?"

She attempted to sit up.

"Take it easy, kid, you don't' want to strain yourself," said Logan, but Marie sat up regardless.

"How long was I out for?" she croaked out.

"Almost five days," said Mr. McCoy from the doorway as he walked up to her bed. "We put you under a medically-induced coma to let your body unconsciously repair itself after The Cure's effects and allow your DNA to readjust itself. I'm afraid I had to contact Worthington Labs and inform them that their so-called cure was only temporary and I'm also afraid that it led to a press conference regarding your current status."

"Which is?" she asked weakly.

"We believe that Carol was somehow able to put you under impressible stress that trigged your dormant mutation, much similar to the first time your powers surfaced. Am I correct?"

More than he knew.

Rogue nodded, "Yes,"

"The labs and the media had to be informed on The Cure's affect after a certain amount of time since it was injected. You were more with the second wave of mutants who took it, but you're actually the first one to have the medication deteriorate," Of course it had to be her, she thought miserably, "However, as of yesterday, more and more counts of mutations re-manifesting have been reported. The sudden genetic return of the mutant trait has caused a sort of an evolutionary rush on the body. Many mutants who had taken The Cure," his voice was more sombre, "did not survive the DNA retransformation or their powers have jumped to another level beyond their control. Those supporting and those opposed to The Cure have become more violent and enraged. I'm afraid that you've cause quite a public ruckus."

"Sorry," she apologised monotonously.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Rogue," Logan interrupted sharply, "This is science and Worthington Labs' fault for not knowing the long term effects and consequences."

Rogue was finally able to ask, "What happened to Carol?"

Everyone was silent and looked between each other warily. It was an obvious sign that Rogue would regret asking.

"Because of Ms. Danver's invincible mutant power," Mr. McCoy started off slowly, "She didn't begin to realise your powers resurfacing until you both were to weak to move. You, by the sudden mental assault, and Carol due to the sudden lack of physical power."

"But what happened to her?_" _said Rogue again quickly.

Ororo sighed.

"Remember when were in the kitchen and you started yelling about Carol attacking you're mind?"

Rogue nodded. How could she possibly forget?

"We…we think," she continued, "that you absorbed Carol. Entirely,"

Rogue stared at her like she had grown an extra head.

"Its like," Ororo tried again, "When you absorb some one, and you understand how they're usually just knocked out for a couple of hours?"

Rogue nodded numbly.

"It's like that…but more permanent," she looked visibly exhausted with bags under her eyes. It had been a particularly tough couple of months for her. "Her body has been in a comatose state ever since your defence class and she had no brain activity, so we believe that the entire Carol persona is…in your mind," she finished slowly, taking in a deep breath, bracing herself for Rogues' reaction.

No one responded. No one agreed with her, but no one denied it either.

"We're fairly confident that the theory is correct since Logan and Ororo saw your display of Ms. Danver's powers in the kitchen several nights ago," said Mr. McCoy, "You were able to fly from the floor and through bullet-proof windows with out shattering bones or even receiving any wounds and made a fairly sized dent in the lawn. I'd say nearly six feet deep." He said. It gave Rogue the want to go back there and stay six feet under. "So, in theory, yes, you should have Ms. Danver's powers permanently now, until otherwise is said."

Rogue was on the verge of tears and looked over to Logan for support.

"Don't worry, kid," he said in an unusual soft voice that lacked his usual edgy tone, "You should be out of here in a couple of days. Rest up,"

She swallowed, not wanting anyone to see her cry, and nodded her head.

"Get some sleep, okay" Ororo said, patting her foot as she watched Rogue hold back the urge to sniff or wipe her eyes.

The adults left the room and some time later was Rogue finally graced with the gift of a dreamless sleep.

X

The next day Rogue awoke to find that some one had brought her a large breakfast that she all but attacked as soon as she dragged the tray onto her bed. Rogue also saw a pile of magazines on the floor and she was _desperately _bored.

Once again removing all of the wires and medical equipment, (Ororo could yell at her later), and pushed them out of the room when their alarms began going off due to the lack of response, she crawled out of bed and heaved the pile of newspapers and magazines onto the sheets and made herself comfortable. Rogue made sure Carol was still securely on the outside of the mind like the professor had taught her, but she could sill hear the distant hum of her voice and the constant assault on her shield.

Rogue was disgusted when she flipped though the magazine and newspaper selections to see that not only was her unconscious face on the cover of that week's _New York Times, _but also _Scientific America _and the _Monthly Medical _magazine. The Cure's failure needed a covergirl, and Rogue, apparently, must've made the perfect candidate.

Furiously, Rogue threw them all off of the bed and brought her knees into her chest.

She caught two of the younger students peeking in around the corner of her room and whispered amongst themselves all the way down the hall and up to the main lobby once Rogue angrily shoo-ed them away.

Oh yes, she thought definitely, as soon as she graduated she was _out _of this place.

**X  
-:TBC:-**

**A/N: All right, so there's the first whopper of a chapter for you! What do you think so far? How's the mood? The setting? Plot reference?**

**Have any ideas? Opinions? Suggestions?**

**Drop a line!**

**Would I be considered weird if I were to say that I liked writing Carol's character? lol**

**Next Chapter: **Warren Worthington's point of view!  
**R/R**

**-  
**Love From Luna


	2. Rebel Angels

"**Angels and Demons"  
****By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On: **12 June 2006  
**Chapter Two  
**"**Rebel Angels"**

**X**

"Dad, didn't you always use to tell me that cowardice is the greatest fallibility?" Warren Worthington III watched his father pack his large suitcases getting fuller by the moment.

Warren Junior looked over at his son and sighed, "Yes, but I'm not acting out of cowardice, Warren,"

"Hiding isn't cowardly?" he asked dryly.

His father stopped packing and sighed again tiredly, "I'm being _smart, _Warren, believe me when I say that I would love nothing than to stay here and continue my research. But it's just not plausible right now," Mr. Worthington went back to his bags as his son frowned deeply and walked out of the room.

Warren knew that his father was still peeved about the his little stunt on Alcatraz, especially when it would be replayed on the national news every now and then with the headlines _Worthington's Son Refuses Cure _often being showed.

He moodily sat on the couch and flipped on the television. Warren was slightly surprised when the aforementioned episode was being shown again, for the first time in several weeks.

"_In breaking international news_," said the anchorwoman, "_Distributors of _The Mutant Cure _have been shocked to learn that the affects of the so-called permanent solution has began to fade away from the mutants' genetic code. Not much is known at the present time. _Worthington Labs _was immediately informed yesterday and are still maintaining their _no comment _statement_."

"Dad?" Warren called over his shoulder, suddenly realising just why his father was suddenly bent on going into hiding so quickly.

"_The first recorded testament of a mutant's dormant power resurface was a young woman from the Xavier's Institute in New York state named Marie D'Ancanto after having been one of the first several thousand mutants to receive _The Cure _from Alcatraz almost three months ago. Miss D'Ancanto has been unconscious since the time of her powers resurfacing and is still being held at the Xavier Institute for further observations. Medical experts are begging anyone who has received _The Cure_ to take extreme precautions—"_

The Xavier Institute? Warren thought. He had been there for nearly a month before his father called him back home to sign some papers and for the sake of the company after Alcatraz had nearly been destroyed. Warren didn't recall anyone named Marie D'Ancanto.

The television switched to a screen showing Hank McCoy on the outside of the gates at Xavier's Institute. _"This should only furthermore prove that mutants are here to stay,"_

The anchorwoman came back on, _"Authorities are once again urging the public to be on the high alert for the mutant _Magneto _due to this recent story development," _A familiar old Jewish face reappeared on the screen, _"With the cooperation of Worthington Labs, government officials are offering a _one-million dollar _reward to anyone who is able to successfully detain him, _dead or alive_."_

"_DAD!_" Warren angrily leapt over the couch and stormed back to his father's room. "You're going to give someone a million dollars for killing Magneto?" he asked furiously.

His father sighed and held up his hand again tiredly, "Now, son, the chances of someone being able to _kill _the most powerful mutant on the face of the earth are _very _slim. We don't even know if he survived the resurfacing of his powers or if he's already had them manifested again."

"But you're still giving them the chance! People are still going to get themselves killed for trying!" Warren roared, "That's why you want to get out of here so badly and go into hiding! Not only do people hate you for _sponsoring _The Cure, but because now you have Magneto's army all over you!"

"Warren, calm down!" his father ordered.

"Don't _tell me _what to do!" Warren yelled, "I'm _twenty years old_, not some little child you can dictate anymore!" Warren stormed out of his father's room and into his own, kicking his old dresser that had been put back when he moved home. Sometimes he wished he go back to the times when he followed his father so blindly.

None of his father's staff was on duty that day so Warren left his wings in plain sight as he walked around shirtless, not having to worry about the ridicule of anyone except his own father's.

For some reason, arguing with his father always seemed to throw out all of his common sense. He said things that didn't make him feel like a twenty-year-old young man, but rather, just a regular defiant teenager.

He stared out of the room's skylight as a flew by. He had been staring out the open ceiling more and more ever since his father had called him back from the Xavier's Institute to sign more papers about the company: the cause of many of their arguments.

His father knocked on the door, "Warren, I want you to come to Canada with me. It's not safe here for us anymore!"

It wasn't safe for _his father _anymore. Nobody hated Warren. _He _had denied the cure and gone against his own family. Warren didn't answer him.

"Warren," sighed his father like he always did when he was disappointed, "I want you to be able to talk to me. I'll be here if you need me,"

Warren would have appreciated if his father had been there for him when he started growing wings out of his back.

X

Warren hated small spaces; he felt they were like cages. He had once read about the Guatemalan national bird called the quetzal. It was an exotic and interesting animal that lived so freely that if it were to be caged in any way, it would die. Warren felt as though he could relate almost painfully.

He recalled always being told by doctors to be careful when he played because his bone were uncharacteristically hollow, making him more prone to painful accidents. Warren never understood why he would be born with hollow bones until about his tenth birthday when he began to have seriously back pains and told his father about the unusual bumps below his shoulder blades.

His father told Warren that he would be fine.

When he was eleven and bones began to produce from his back, he didn't tell his father. Several months later when the bones began to develop into a small framework, he wore baggier shirts, oversized coats, and avoided the pools. The summer before he turned twelve, almost the exact time the mutant craze began, Warren began to develop small feathers and skin along those same protruding bones. In an attempt to feel normal, Warren tried to get rid of them after having heard his father complain boisterously about the mutant community.

He used to want to make his father proud.

Over the next several days, _Worthington Labs_ scientists and distributors of The Cure would temporarily shut down for a revaluation of the chemical balances and run some more tests on the mutant they called Leech. After the X-Men had saved him, he too was put into hiding until Warren's father decided otherwise.

Warren knew that Leech, or Jimmy as he used to be called, had been abandoned by his family. But Warren couldn't help but wonder how his family knew he was a mutant if his power is to _negate _mutant powers.

It was the second day of what Warren had snidely told his father was his imprisonment. He was brushed off dismissively as his father repeatedly told him that it wasn't safe for either of them in California anymore. Their ride would be arriving any day to take them to Canada.

Protests were daily at the Lab or just outside the apartment as Warren watched them enviously on the other side of his cage.

It felt like he would die if he weren't able to fly soon…

"Good news, Warren!" said his father that evening over the dinner table as his son gazed longingly out the window, "Our ride will be arriving tomorrow night and we'll be able to take a jet to Montreal! You'll be able to fly all you want there,"

Warren nodded.

Too bad he wouldn't be there tomorrow.

X

Much later that evening, or perhaps very early the next morning (he didn't know anymore) Warren Worthington III packed one of his lightest backpacks with his longest coat, a couple of extra shirts, and several hundred dollars from the safe in his old bedroom.

Leaving behind a short note to his father explaining almost everything, Warren quietly tiptoed to the roof of the apartment like a small chid afraid of being caught out of bed past his bedtime.

The protestors had finally gone home for the night he was relieved to see.

Securing the backpack between his wings, Warren made a running jump off the apartment ledge and began the start of what promised to be a very long journey.

X

As the dawn broke the next day, Warren attempted to calculate his distance travelled and the distance to go.

He knew that the average person could walk about twenty to twenty-five kilometres per day because his father had participated in plenty of marathons to advertise his company. But Warren was travelling by way of wing, and science didn't have a statistic for that. It meant that he could have possibly travelled anywhere between ten and twenty times faster if he kept at a steady pace. Either way, he still had a _long _way to go to reach his destination.

Warren landed in a desolate field, somewhere on or near the Nevada border he hoped, and did not want to buy a plane ticket in fear that his father would be able to track him too easily. His next best option, he decided, was to get a train to sleep on for the day and fly by night.

It would be harder for his father to find him, he thought optimistically.

Warren slipped on his coat and went to the nearest train station and bought the next ticket to Denver, Colorado. He slept for the next several hours and the conductor had to come by personally to wake him up.

He still had a while ways to go, he yawned.

It was another long night of flying that brought him to somewhere near central Kansas at two in the morning when he just couldn't bear to fly any longer. He, embarrassedly, asked a local prostitute where the closest train station was.

Warren asked the girl behind the glass blearily, "Where does your farthest train go to and when does it leave?"

She smiled warmly for someone awake at an ungodly hour, "Athens, Ohio. Leavin' in about two hours."

"I'll take that, thank you," His father had always taught him that it was _thank you, _and never _thanks. _He began to pull out his money, making sure that his coat was securely fastened.

"It's on me," she smiled so that it reached her eyes and gave him his ticket. She could not have been older than sixteen, had a face full of freckles with dusty brown hair that was swept up into a neat a manageable ponytail, "You look like it's been some rough travelling,"

It was a school night, so why wasn't she at home sleeping like the rest of the girls her age?

Warren knew that she had no way of knowing that he had several hundred dollars in his pocket and would have had no problem paying her. "Thanks," he said, the memory of his father fading.

"You okay?" she asked, offering him a larger and encouraging smile, "You look like you've been to hell and back,"

Warren sighed. He doubted that she wanted to know what was _really _bothering him, "Actually," he said, "I'm kind of hungry. Is there any place that's open now?"

Her grinned broadened and her braces reflected the station's lights, "Yeah, I'll take you there," then over her shoulder she called, "Hey, Harry? I'm taking off early!"

"Pick up your pay check tomorrow!" An unseen man yelled back.

"You really don't have to—" Warren tried.

She shrugged him off, "It's okay," she explained, "It's a ghost town during these hours and I need to head home sooner or later. I'm Taylor, by the way."

"Warren,"

"Nice to meet you, Warren," she said. It was like her smile never seemed to leave her face, "How are you enjoying Kansas so far?"

They had left the station and were walking down a dirty street where the people usually stayed away from under the streetlamps. It was strange how Taylor stood out so immensely in this barren town. She was like a bright candle hidden out of sight.

"Actually," Warren admitted, "I'm just passing through,"

Taylor nodded, "A lot of people like to blow by Kansas. It's like the No-Man's Land of North America. Most folk who run by here ask me if I can point them in the direction of _Smallville, _where Superman grew up. Like on the show, you know?" she rolled her eyes."

Warren laughed at her attitude as they approached a _Seven-Eleven_. There was never this much generosity among people back in Alcatraz. It was like every part of the country had a little piece of originality and its very own personality.

"Where you from?" she asked.

"California," Warren answered, "Just along the coast,"

Taylor's eyes widened and she let a low whistle, "Wow, really? I've never been to California. The furthest I've ever been is Missouri,"

"You don't like to travel?" Warren asked conversationally as they walked through the doors to the little substation.

"Nah," she said sheepishly, "'Just can't afford to be moving around much. My mom and me are trying to focus on making all ends meet right now, so I took up the job at the station to finish the payment on my braces. You could say that my dad never really got around to the final payments." Warren mentally berated himself for leading her into such an awkward predicament. Sometimes…sometimes he forgot that there were people who couldn't afford life's leisure.

"Sorry," he apologised quietly.

"S'not your fault," Taylor told him, "Just wish politics would stop saying that they're tryin' to fix this sort of thing when they don't even really understand the problem to begin with," Taylor didn't have to say what happened to her father because Warren already had a fair idea. She pulled out a soda from the fridge, letting out a cold blast of air. Warren wasn't used to the humidity of the central United States and grabbed one, too, and several sealed snacks for the road—and sky.

"Do you…have other family?" He tried to make up for accidentally making her confess about the financial troubles she and her mother were having but couldn't help but be astounded by her just opinions on government.

"Just a little brother," she rolled her eyes, "His name's Elijah. I think mom named him after one of them bible passages. Or maybe the guy from _Lord of the Rings, _I can't remember,"

Together they laughed as Warren told Taylor that he would pay for everything in return for her kind gesture back at the station. He tried to hide the crisp twenty he pulled out of his bag and slid it across the counter where a blurry old man yawned and handed him the change and their bag.

Wordlessly, they sat on the bench outside underneath an old grimy flickering light post that not even the mosquitoes and bugs bothered with it.

"Hey, Warren?" Taylor said suddenly in a quiet voice from over her plastic soda bottle, "I know this is kind of an awkward question to ask a stranger," she looked hesitant, " But do you believe in angels?"

Warren stopped chewing on his sandwich and swallowed it slowly as possible. He had been called an angel once…when he was sixteen years old and had just finished an argument with his father in Philadelphia on a business trip. Warren had jumped out from the hotel window to take a long flight to clear his head. He ended up saving a girl from getting mugged that night.

"_Mi ángel custodio,_" she had muttered as she blessed herself. She had thought that Warren was her guardian angel.

Warren adjusted his coat nervously, "What do you mean?" he asked, taking a drink of his water to wash down the sandwich. Taylor was awfully friendly and open for someone living in such a dark town, especially with strangers, Warren thought and couldn't help but worry for her.

"I dunno…" she shrugged, "Church says that angels are higher than people, but sometimes they blend right in and can help us out in everyday life. Like in the story of Tobias," Warren was vaguely acquainted with the story, "He was the son of Tobit and had to travel all on his own until a complete stranger joined him to keep him company. Tobias didn't even know until the very end that the guy was an angel. It kind of makes me wonder if God still does that kind of thing. Sends out angels, I mean,"

Warren couldn't help but admire her ingenuousness; "We could all do with an angel now and then," he said, agreeing with her.

"I had use to hope that an angel would come to Grainfield and take me away from this place," she said almost wistfully, "I don't like small towns that much. But mom told me a while ago that there are many more people in the world that need the angels more than we do, so I wouldn't want to take them away from the more deserving people. It wouldn't be too nice now would it?" she chuckled sheepishly and her bangs hid her eyes.

There was so much child-like innocence forced into such an old soul. Even though Warren may have had wings, Taylor was more angelic than he probably could ever be. "Perhaps," he said, "But sometimes you don't need an angel to help you through things. Just your mom or your brother or your friends at school could be a God-send." Religion wasn't exactly Warren's prime subject and he couldn't help but feel awkward as he talked about God with a complete stranger.

Taylor's face broke out into an even wider grin if possible. She would look amazing as soon as her braces were off, he realised, and she would deserve the ability to be able to smile fully.

"I think you're right," she said, "I don't always need an angel, now do I?" Taylor said in an excited revelation, "_God _is always with me and will take me to the places I need to go. And that's just as good,"

Warren laughed, "Where would you want to go?"

Taylor's smile never faltered as she closed her eyes and leant far back as possible with her arms stretching out far behind into darkness outside of the cone of luminescence, "Wherever the wind takes me!" she laughed. Warren chuckled softly but the street remained quiet and she kept her eyes closed and arms raised. "I gotta be getting home now," Taylor said at last, the mood dropping slightly.

"And I should be getting back before I miss my train," Warren agreed, glancing at his watch.

"You sure you don't want to stay the night? Kansas, believe it or not, sure is beautiful in the morning,"

Warren shook his head sadly. The last thing he wanted was to give his father time to catch up, "I'm sorry, I can't. But it was nice to meet you,"

Taylor smiled, "It was nice to meet you, too, Warren," she said, holding out a hand.

He took it, "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

"Yeah," She nodded, still smiling, and said, "Maybe I've got an angel watching over me and just don't know it?"

"Maybe we all do," Warren answered softly.

Taylor saw another streak of rumpled feathers from underneath Warren's jacket as he carefully stood up from the bench and retrieved her coat. He walked to the edge of the circle of light that the lamp emitted and to where she stood.

What Taylor didn't see Warren slip two hundred dollars into her pocket as he helped her into her jacket. The same way she didn't see Warren remove his coat and take another joyous flight through the sky, assuring himself that Taylor, indeed, got home safely.

She didn't see him wait on the neighbour's roof until she was safe inside her small flat. He wanted to make sure her smile would be able to take the breaths away from passers-by.

Maybe there was such a thing as angels.

X

The train ride was another ten hours of sleep that Warren was more than grateful for. He was nearly alone in the carriage and he began to wonder if he was more like his father than he let on. Was looking for control of his own life, or was he running from something more powerful?

Once he was off the train, Warren flew for as long as the sky was dark enough to cloak him from the human, or mutant, eye. At last when dawn once again touched its fingers to the eastern seaboard, Warren had all but collapsed when he sat on the bus to finish the rest of his journey, sustaining a slight sprain in his right wing.

Upton his arrival to the _Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters_, the sun was finally climbing over the trees and the morning dew had nearly evaporated. The gates were locked and he had never stuck around long enough to receive a personal log-in code. He pulled a small grin as he removed his coat and easily flew over the steel bars.

Once again climbing into his familiar coat, Warren walked up the old stone steps and knocked lightly on the mansion's doors.

No one answered.

Warren hesitantly, turned the brass knob, (prepared to duck out of the way of god only knew what), and quietly opened the door to a surprisingly empty entrance room.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

"Mr. Worthington?" answered someone from the top of the stairs. It was Hank McCoy; Warren had met him briefly once and had often seen him in diplomatic debates on the television and he knew that he was the Secretary of Mutant Affairs for the US government

"Oh, Hello, Mr. McCoy," Warren answered politely, "I'm looking for Ms. Monroe."

"Yes, I'm afraid that we're slightly preoccupied at the moment," he said and then looked at him suspiciously, "You're father has been calling here looking for you these past couple of days."

Warren said nothing. He wasn't under obligation to tell Mr. McCoy anything.

He must have understood so he told Warren, "Why don't you help yourself to the kitchen while Ororo and myself finish things?"

Warren did just that and helped himself to the some of the leftovers. He introduced himself to several of the students and faculty who were more than happy to talk with a world famous mutant bachelor worth almost billions of dollars.

Particularly the young women.

The mansion hadn't changed much, he noticed as he walked along the well-furnished hallways. Even his old room was still empty.

He wondered if his father was worried about him.

It wasn't until later that evening was Ororo able to see him for his re-registration.

"Hi, Warren!" she said haphazardly, her head peaking out from the office doors, "Come in, come in," She was still smiling even though she had lost three of her friends and mentors.

Warren thought the weather had been slightly cloudy on his way over.

He joined Ororo in the Main Office. She was running though the papers he had filled out on his last visit, "Okay…I think we still have all of your old documents," she held up a fistful of papers, eyes squinting at the writing, "Have you been having any trouble with your powers?" she asked.

"No, I've been fine," he answered truthfully, "Just a small sprain in the right wing,"

She flipped through some more papers vigorously, "Um, alright then, I suppose we just need to give you another physical. Do you remember the where the Med Bay is? I have to organise this mess," she laughed nervously, motioning to all of the loose papers.

Warren had never known Ororo to be so scatterbrained.

"Who's pigeon-feathers?" A man asked from the doorway. Warren vaguely remembered the man's name was Wolverine, or Logan during the school hours.

He looked down and flushed. Warren hadn't noticed that his wings were poking out from underneath him and had even shed on the seat.

"Logan, you remember Warren, right?" said Ororo, "From Alcatraz?"

"Right, right," he nodded, analysing Warren's every squirming movement.

"Hey, Logan?" Ororo said again from somewhere inside the mountain of papers, "Be a dear and take Warren down to the Med Bay so I can give him a physical in a bit?"

Logan grunted.

He didn't strike Warren as a "dear" type…

Nonetheless, Logan led him down to the X-Men's sub-levels of the mansion.

"Third door on the right and find yourself a seat," he was told gruffly.

Warren turned to thank him politely, but he was already walking down the hall, hands buried deep into the pockets of his jeans.

The automatic doors parted for him before he had even turned towards the entrance. Upon his second introduction to the Xavier Med Bay, Warren was startled when his ears were assaulted by the sound of screeching medical equipment in the hall. He nearly fell over from shock.

They were just outside of a glass room with its curtains open, revealing a rather bored looking patient.

She was sitting on her bed, one leg folded over the other as she casually flipped through a _Seventeen _magazine, idly twirling the ends of her hair. He found it strange that her long bangs were shockingly silver and framed her face like two ribbons of moonlight against a sea of auburn.

Warren hadn't been watching where his feet were taking him and the glass doors to her room swished open on their own as he began to walk past.

The sudden noise of her disconnected monitors from the hallway alerted her when Warren accidentally opened the doors and made the girl jump in surprise. She hovered above the bed for only a short moment until she realised, looking quite shocked, that she was doing so and dropped back down to her bed, looking mildly uncomfortable.

"Sorry," he apologised, stepping further into her room so that the doors would shut behind him and cut off the noise, "But I…I really don't think you should get rid of all your equipment like that," he said, pointing to the hallway.

The girl rolled her eyes and shrugged, "I don't need monitors to tell me how I feel. Just wish I knew how to turn the damn things off."

He decided to change the topic as the girl searched for her dropped magazine.

"I'm Warren," he introduced, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had never been good with meeting new people.

"Rogue," she answered tonelessly, not looking up. He didn't know that she decidedly did not like newcomers at the mansion.

"Rogue?" he repeated slowly. She didn't respond, but flipped through the magazine, trying to find where she had last left off. Warren studied her face for a minute as she read. Rogue was about to reprimand him and tell him off for staring until he said, "You're Marie D'Ancanto from the news,"

"Unfortunately," she answered with a steeled expression, "I prefer Rogue."

Warren was about to question her further until Ororo came running into the room. They hadn't seen her eyes widen to immeasurable sizes until she realised that the equipment had been merely disconnected. Rather unhappily, she shut them all off.

"Rogue," she snapped, "You're putting me into an early grave,"

"I keep telling you and _everyone else _that I'm fine!" she argued, closing the magazine with a finger inside to save her place.

"I want you in here for another day of observation," Her face softened, "Rogue, pleasethis is new for _everyone, _we don't want any mistakes, alright?"

Rogue folded her arms and looked away with a sulking face, "Fine," she grumbled.

"Come on, Warren, let's get that physical done real quick,"

X

Oddly enough, sitting on an cold metal bench in nothing but his boxers while an exotically beautiful woman gave him an examination was not as bad as he would have thought it would be.

"So why is _Rogue_ in here?" asked Warren as Ororo attempted to measure his wingspan. ("I wish I was certified to do this," she had muttered.)

Ororo sighed gustily, "Her powers came back during an inconvenient time for her and she ended up hurting one of the students who's also in here."

"What's her power?" He was curious to know.

Her voice became a little softer, "Rogue can absorb almost all forms of life-force and can take in a person's memories, energy, stamina, if they're a mutant, she can use their powers." She rolled up the tape measure, "She can also replicate physical characteristics like tails, claws," she looked at him, "…wings,"

"She seemed awfully bitter about it," Warren had noticed.

"Her powers work only through skin-to-skin contact and she can't control it."

"Oh," Now he understood why she had been so upset when her powers returned. For most it would just be a surprise inconvenience, but for Rogue…it must have been life altering.

"She really doesn't mean to be so…edgy," Ororo added carefully, "She's just," she sighed, "not happy here anymore,"

Warren looked down, "I'm sorry," he said.

Ororo looked up and smiled, "Don't be. Just be kind to her and she'll open up to you soon enough,"

Minutes later, they had finished and Warren helped Ororo move Rogue's old monitor equipment into a back storage room.

"Ororo?" said Warren as they exited the Med Bay together, "Would you mind…not telling my father that I'm here?"

She looked up at him long and hard, "You're over eighteen," she shrugged, "You make your own decisions and we respect your decision of confidentiality."

He smiled gratefully, "Thanks,"

"But would you mind keeping an eye on Rogue?" she asked and continued at Warren's startled face, "I feel bad for leaving her all alone down here. Please?" She had large doe-brown eyes, Warren noticed, which explained how Logan probably let her slide on calling him _dear._

"Sure,"

Almost immediately as he agreed, Ororo's communicator went off and Logan's voiced crackled through.

"_You'd better get up here, Stor—" _CRASH "_DAMMIT, YOU JACKASS! THAT WAS _THE BEER!"

"Logan?" she answered sharply, "Logan, what beer? _LOGAN?_" Ororo attempted to get a response, but the frequency had cut out completely. "Stay down here and watch Rogue—and under _no circumstances _can you tell her that something's going on." She threw the communicator to the ground with frustration and ran to the elevator with rapid speed like she had done this before.

Warren watched her until she disappeared from view and he returned to the Med Bay slowly as possible where Rogue was still reading.

"Hey," said Warren.

She didn't look up, "Hey,"

Silence.

"And here I thought this was going to be awkward," he said, bemused.

Rogue rolled her eyes, frustrated, and dropped the magazine against her chest again and sighed, "So you're the new kid?" she said in a small attempt at a conversation.

"I'm twenty," Warren answered flatly, "I don't think I still qualify as a kid." She didn't answer, satisfied that she had "socialised", and went back to the magazine. "So…what are you thinking about?" he tried again.

Rogue didn't hesitate to answer, "How much I hate my mutation and just want to go home," she said dryly, "You?"

He grinned, "I was thinking about how much I love to fly and how I never really plan on returning home."

Warren had gotten her attention and she did a double take as she first noticed his wings peaking out from underneath his coat and asked, "Aren't you Warren Worthington…the son of the man who founded The Cure?"

He sighed, "Yeah,"

Rogue pursed her lips, "Remind me to invite him over sometime. We're long overdue for a little chat," she said and Warren couldn't help but grin at her attitude.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly too thrilled wit him either—"

Suddenly, the entire mansion shook. Warren and Rogue exchanged unreadable looks.

"What on earth was _that?_"

"I dunno," Rogue answered slowly, finally shutting the magazine for good, "You up for finding out?" she smirked, leaping off the bed and looking like she hadn't been this excited about getting out of the hospital room in days.

He knew that it wasn't exactly a question and doubted that he would be able to stop her even if he wanted to. "If Ororo asks," Warren answered, "You ran out on me,"

"Deal,"

Together they ran out of the Med Bay and up to the main floor in pursuit of the disturbance.

**X  
****-:TBC:-**

**A/N: So there's the second main character and now onto the third so that the story's plot can finally get rolling !**

**Why do I love writing characters that have almost no part whatsoever in the actual story!?!?**

**Which brings me to my second point: If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to give Rogue, Warren and Remy at least **_**one **_**person who changes their life or way they think before they meet up.**

**I apologise sincerely if I made religion too much of a prime topic T.T **

**Fackyews:**

**So will this either end Rogue/Angel or Rogue/Gambit or neither? **_–lunafan_

We haven't even met all of the characters yet! I could pull out a random Gary Stu and have _him _end up with Rogue…but I think I'll avoid that road for as long as I can…

**Thank God! Another Angel/Rogue story, I was getting kind of lonely. **_-untouchablegoth_

Holy jeebes, you guys haven't even _met _Remy yet! T.T Remy's a nice guy, too! I guess I should say right now that there isn't going to be so much as _romance _as there is _friendship _in this particular story…coughs…Remy, Warren, and Rogue are all just getting over something _big _in their life, y'know? The old scars have got to heal before the author decides to be mean and put new ones there. ;; So, technically, maybe it's what _lunafan _suggested—it's a kinda/sorta neither…ish. Yeah.

(psst! Update _What if Ah, _sometime soon!)

**Ishandahalf: **shakes head I should have known that known that whenever there's the _slightest _hint of a ROMY I'd be seeing a crazy Canadian's name somewhere on the review board

**Next Chapter: **The wonderful(-ish) tale of Remy Lebeau, a.k.a. Gambit

(omgYAYfinally!)

-  
Love From Luna


	3. Cajun Corruption

**"Angels and Demons"  
****By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On: **14 June 2006  
**Chapter Three  
"Cajun Corruption"**

**X**

"Anot'er shot, _homme," _The man slurred for the fourth time that hour and the night was still young.

The bartender gave him a look that clearly said he was about to refuse him the alcohol until the man threw down a fistful of large bills. The bartender was not about to deny a good paying customer his order and he turned to pour another glass. It wasn't his business to know where the strange man got so much money that he had no problem drunkenly handing out such huge bills. He just took the cash and did his job.

The bartender was new in town and therefore could not be blamed that he didn't know about Remy Lebeau.

Remy Lebeau was a high quality poker player.

Remy Lebeau was a powerful mutant.

Remy Lebeau…was being thrown out of New Orleans.

"Hit me," he turned over another glass. His eyes were bloodshot and hidden underneath his glasses. Remy could barely see, but he knew where the glasses were.

This time, the bartender hesitated and said, "I t'ink y've 'ad enough, sir," Remy threw down another bill and the bartender looked tempted, but didn't take it. He began to walk away until Remy's whole torso went over the bar and his fist seized the bartender's shirt.

"Remy'll tell y' when Remy's had enough," he warned dangerously.

"Hey, c'mon, back off. I'm just doin' m' job, alright?" He defended holding his hands up.

"Then _do—it—right,"_ said Remy hotly.

The next thing Remy Lebeau knew, he was being forcibly escorted out of the club and thrown into the back alley. He was on the brink of unconscious when Remy wondered when his life had gotten so screwed up.

X

"'_Alo, cher," _purred his beautiful fiancée, sneakily snaking her arms around his neck from behind. _"Ça va?"_

Remy grinned roguishly at his future wife's antics, _"Oui, Ça va. _How goes th' weddin' plans?" He asked as Belladonna Boudreaux slid into his lap.

"_Trés bon, _now that you be keepin' outta trouble," she teased, her blue eyes lighting up and blonde hair dancing across her face.

Remy looked offended, _"Moi? _Trouble? Perish th' thought,"

Bella laughed loudly, "You maybe the Prince of Thieves, Remy Lebeau, but y'll always be th' King of Trouble."

Yes, it was going to be a sad day indeed for women of all ages in New Orleans when Remy Lebeau, just at the age of twenty-three, got married to his childhood friend in only a month.

_Just _friend.

Remy was being forced into a marriage with a woman he didn't want to marryThey were both underground royalty, they were both Trouble with a capitol _T_, and they both knew their opposite sex _quite _well, but no matter how alike they were, Remy never wanted to see himself tied down. He was young and wanted to enjoy his vital years while he still could. Maybe even go to Europe again and visit _Le Louvre._

After hours, of course, he smirked.

Remy Lebeau had been abandoned when he was a child because of his mutation. Although his powers didn't surface until he was sixteen, Remy had been born with intimidating red-on-black eyes.

His own birth parents, he recalled dourly, referred to him as _Le Diable Blanc._

The White Devil.

He raised himself on the streets of New Orleans until he was almost eleven years old, living off the generosity of "patrons and donors" he liked to call them. Remy had taught himself to be quite the adept pickpocket and found unsuspecting tourists his usual victims.

One day, Remy had spotted a sharp looking man with clean-cut features and a lump in his coat pocket where his wallet undoubtedly was. Remy waited until the man was in a crowded area where people were casually brushing up against each other without a second thought. He might have just been a kid, but Remy was smart.

He had almost succeeded in stealing the man's wallet until he turned around and grabbed Remy's wrist, wrenching it painfully.

"Not bad, kid," said the man, still holding Remy's wrists with his wallet clenched in his fist, "But I spotted y' way back on Bourbon Street lookin' at m' coat like it was a birthday cake." Remy tried to shake free, but the man was stronger and he plucked his wallet out of Remy's hand like it was nothing and let go. "I'm Jean-Luc," he said, holding out a firm hand, "And you are?"

Remy stared at him dumbfounded. He never told anyone his name, but the man had already let go, so why wasn't Remy running?

"You a cop?"

Surprisingly, Jean-Luc laughed.

"Y're very smart, m' boy! Do y' have a family?"

"I don' need a family," he said coolly.

"Ah, so y're a runaway?" Jean-Luc concluded. Remy didn't' answer, "I think I have just th' place for you…" he put an arm around Remy's stiff shoulders and lead him down the streets towards the French Quarter.

All common sense was telling him to run, but Remy was shaking so violently that he was afraid his legs would give out from underneath him. Jean-Luc continued to pull him away from the crowd and down the road until they reached a large estate that bordered a large wooded area.

"Welcome t' th' Lebeau Manor," said Jean-Luc proudly.

Remy stood rooted to the spot, "Y'mean…you're not turnin' me into th' cops?"

Jean-Luc winked, "So long as y' don't turn _us _in,"

Remy nodded weakly and adjusted his stolen sunglasses so that he felt positive his eyes were covered. He wanted to see how long this man's generosity would last before his mutation was discovered.

"Welcome t' th' Thieves Guild, son,"

They were words that made his heart clench.

X

It was one week later when Remy told his new family his real name.

It was three weeks when Remy stopped saying he had sensitive eyes and revealed them for what they really were and his family accepted him.

He was part of a family.

He was Rembrandt Etienne Lebeau, Prince of Thieves. Remy seemed to like that title more than _Le Diable Blanc._

Three years later when Remy was fourteen years old was when he first learned of another family, similar to his, on the other side of the city called the Boudreaux's. Where the Lebeau's where capable thieves, the Bourdeaux's where capable _assassins_. At the time when the rivalry was most vital, to Remy, it seemed like a real life game of cowboys and Indians; he had been so fascinated and excited by the idea.

"I hear they're havin' a big birthday party for Marius Bourdeaux over at their mansion," he cousin Emil, sometimes more teasingly called _Lapin_, whispered to him out of the corner of his mouth. Emil was only a year older than Remy, and his other cousin, Henri, who was looking at them with wide rule-bearing eyes, was sixteen. "We should go,"

"No," Henri hissed from the other side of Emil, "We're not allowed on their property! We'll get in trouble!"

Remy and Emil rolled their eyes, smirked at each other and whispered in chorus, "Let's go,"

Henri groaned.

X

"Cherry bombs?" said Emil as they crouched behind a large bush.

"Check," Remy answered.

"Do y' have enough?"

"Remy always has enough explosives," he smirked

"Guys, it's not too late to go back," Henri pleaded, giving the mansion nervous glances where guests were entering the large household.

"Oh, hush, Henri," Emil rolled his eyes, "Yer coverin th' basement since you're gonna whine about it all night. I'm takin' the main floor and Remy gets th' second, okay?"

Henri nodded slowly, still not thrilled with the idea, and Remy grinned mischievously.

"Showtime's at 10:10, 'member that, and don' screw up!" The three dispatched with only seventy minutes to make sure everything went well.

Henri would go to the basement and redirect the electricity circuits and energy cables so that half of the estate would be overcharged at exactly 10:10 like they planned. The ballroom and surrounding rooms would start breaking down; causing a panic amongst the guests, while the other half of the manor would be overcharged with the electricity.

Emil would be waiting outside the main floor where, at 9:30 when everyone was in the dining hall for cake and ice-cream (according to the stolen invitation), Emil would start to flood the bathrooms by clogging the sinks.

Remy would locate all of the toilets on the third floor and ten minutes until "Showtime", while everyone was still finishing their meals, he would place a cherry bomb in each one. The tricky part was that Remy had to run and activate all of them in under two minutes in order to emphasize Emil's flood as the pipes broke and further the panic of Henri's power outage.

And Jean-Luc had said that Remy wasn't ready for a heist, he thought smugly. Remy had always hated waiting.

Just to prove his father wrong was the main incentive of why Remy has climbed a large maple tree on the side of the house and attempted to sneak into the Boudreaux's third story window. He had gotten bored with just sitting in the woods by himself with three handfuls of cherry bombs.

It was an easy leap from the tree to the balcony of the room. The lights were dimmed and Remy had assumed that the bedroom wasn't occupied. He quietly slid the door open and gracefully tiptoed through.

Maybe he would steal a couple of little nick-knacks or look around for—

_Click._

Some one had cocked a gone from the car corner of the room and the lights were flipped on.

"Who are y'?" said a congested voice.

Remy held his hands up and slowly turned around to face a blonde hair, blue eyed southern bell. She was kneeling on her bed; the covers tangled at her fee. More importantly, she was the one wielding the loaded gun in his direction.

"Who are y'?" she repeated again, only louder.

Remy said nothing, thinking of a way to get out.

"I swear if y' don' tell me who y'—_AAAAACHOOOO!"_

"Bless y',"

"_AAAAAAACHOOOOO!"_

"Gesundheit?"

"_AAAAAAAAAACHOOOOOOO!"_

Remy laughed, "Here, Remy's got a hankie," He dropped his hands and pulled out the small white cloth from his back pocket and walked across the room to hand it to the girl.

"Ugh, thanks," she muttered, tossing the handgun to her bed, "I've been out of tissues for ages now," she sniffled, "And the bathroom is too far down the hall." She unnamed girl blew her nose loudly into Remy's handkerchief.

He grimaced.

"Er, y' can give it back to me after y' wash it," he said, "I be Remy, by th' way. Remy Lebeau,"

Another sniffled, "Belladonna Boudreaux,"

"Why aren't y' at the party?"

Belladonna held up his rather dirty handkerchief, "'Cause I'm sick, duh," she picked up the handgun and stuffed it back underneath the mattress. At Remy's curious look, she explained, "It was a birthday gift from _mon pere,"_

"And what other girl _wouldn't _want a semi-automatic handgun for her eleventh—"

"Thirteenth!" She objected.

"Sorry, _thirteenth _birthday?"

Belladonna shrugged, "_Mon pere _worries 'bout me,"

"Some dad y've got there," he mused.

She gave him a not-amused look, "And what brings y' here on m' father's birthday?"

For once, he didn't have a defence and he wordlessly turned out his pockets as Belladonna peaked over.

"Cherry bombs?" she said, giving him a dry look.

He grinned sheepishly.

"I hope that Remy wasn' plannin' on sabotagin' _mon pere's _lil' _soiree_ with out m' help, were y'?

It took him a moment to catch on before his face broke out into a grin and he excitedly told her the plan.

X

One week later when everyone was gathered in the kitchen for their lunch, there was a sudden knock on main doors near the foyer. Remy's _tante _Mattie bustled over and answered it.

"'Alo, chil'. Can I help y'?" Mattie still was in her cooking apron and stirring a pot underneath her arm.

"Hi," said a blonde girl with two even braids on either side of her head. "I'm looking for Remy,"

The kitchen that had once been alive and jovial went silent and everyone stared at him, surprised and gob smacked.

"Mattie…who's at th' door?" Jean-Luc called from the kitchen, standing from his chair and briskly walking out of the room as the room's occupants finally leapt to their feet and followed; Remy was right on his adoptive father's heels.

"I dunno," she said over her shoulder, "Chil', what's yer name?"

The pretty blonde girl opened her mouth to respond, "It's—"

"Belladonna Boudreaux," Jean-Luc finished, this lips thinning into a straight white line as he stood over Mattie's shoulder. "Did yer father send y'?" he asked suspiciously.

Mattie whacked him with her wooden spoon and reprimanded, "Be nice! She's just a lil' girl!"

"I'm thirteen!" she objected, "And I'm _still _lookin' for Remy,"

The whole family was piling around the front door and Mattie was holding some back by attempting to beat them away with her spoon. Henri and Emil were giving a sheepish Remy bewildered looks; he hadn't told his friends about Bella. Everyone was staring.

"Remy," his father rumbled, "What is _this?" _he waved his hand in Belladonna's direction.

"Well," he answered, "Remy could be wrong, but he's pretty darn sure that it's a girl."

The room erupted into muffled laughter and Jean-Luc's face went puce.

Bella bit her bottom lip as she tried to suppress a grin. She pulled out a familiar white cloth from her pocket and handed it over to Remy.

"There's one snot stain that I couldn't get out," she admitted, appearing to not be terribly disturbed by the looks she received, "Sorry 'bout that."

It was awkwardly silent as Remy and Bella looked at their shoes and everyone else looked at them like they were trying to burn holes in the backs of their heads.

"Why don' y' come in for some snacks, _chere?" _Mattie said at last, "Y're as thin as a twig. Don' they feed y' over there?"

Bella grinned, relieved.

Jean-Luc looked outraged, "But she's—!"

"Come on, _chere, _we'll pull up an extra seat.

X

Fast-forward nearly a decade where Remy and Bella's friendship had developed and they had grown up together despite the continuing rivalry of their families. Until, that is, Jean-Luc and Marius had gotten together when the feud became unbearable.

They each offered a member of their own family to be put towards a form of unity: marriage. Marius had chosen his daughter, Belladonna, and Jean-Luc chose Remy.

Their wedding date was scheduled for the twenty-eighth of February.

Remy loved Bella, but that didn't necessarily mean he was _in _love with her. Sure, they had slept together on occasion, but Remy didn't want to be tied down to _anyone._

Remy knew that he owed his father for giving him a chance to live. A home. A family. There wasn't much room for Remy to argue.

He sat next to his fiancée at the rehearsal dinner as he wined and dined with his future in-laws—Remy inwardly shuddered—and all but one was present. One of the men at their table had just been asking his neighbour why Julien, Belladonna's older brother, was not with them. Remy didn't think much of it—the two of them had never gotten along anyways. Unfortunately, minutes before the toast, a gun-wielding Julien came staggering forward through the doors.

A hush spread throughout the room. Julien swaggered his way to the main table where Remy and Bella slowly stood and Bella gripped his arm tightly.

"If ya'll think that I'm 'bout t' let his lowly mutant freak _thief _marry _ma soeur, _I swear I'll fill yo' head wit' lead,"

He was clearly intoxicated and the gun in his hand was making Remy, and the entire room, anxious.

"He's _mutant _for god's sake," he cried out and faced the families, "He's a _god forsaken mutant!"_

No one responded. Everyone knew that Remy had slightly unusual eyes, but they had thought that was it. He didn't want an entire assassin family to figure out that he had been lying to them for years…

Remy gripped the table tightly, "_Julien,_" he said warningly.

Julien laughed almost manically, "C'mon, Lebeau! Tell 'em _all _about yer powers!"

All eyes were on him.

Remy didn't know how he had found out because as far as he knew, only his family and Belladonna had known all along. Remy said again slowly, "Julien, put the gun _down,"_

But it made him only more relentless and desperate, "DAMMIT, LEBEAU!" he shouted in a scratchy voice, "SHOW 'EM YOUR POWERS, _Y' FREAK OF NATURE!_" suddenly, he pulled Henri from out of his chair and held the gun to his head, "SHOW 'EM NOW!"

"He's bluffin'," Bella hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"He's drunk," Remy whispered back. A drunken assassin was never a good assassin. He slowly walked down from the head table, "Okay, I'll show 'em if y' let Henri go. Let's just be cool 'bout this, _oui?_"

Julien was breathing heavily and Remy's cousin remained silent for the whole ordeal, feeling sorry that he would cost his cousin his most sacred secret. Remy slowly approached them and said, "Now let Henri go, Julien, he's got nothin' t' do with all of this,"

Reluctantly, Julien's hold on Henri eased and he backed away slowly with Julien's gun-shaking hand still pointing in his direction.

"Show them," he said.

Remy sighed and picked up a piece of cutlery from the tables and held it arms length away and used his powers to give it the slightest charge so that it glowed. Remy held it up for the room to see as they murmured amongst themselves.

"Jus' fancy light trick," Remy said, shrugging it off like it wasn't that big of a deal. Maybe if he played his cards right and with a bit of luck, he could keep his real powers a secr—

"SHOW THEM ALL OF YOUR POWERS, FREAK!"

_Merde, _he thought.

"Julien—"

"_SHOW 'EM NOW!" _He cocked the gun again and aimed it at Henri once again who was being tightly hugged by his own fiancée, a tearful looking woman named Mercy. He fired once and missed, hitting a blank wall behind Henri, but one could tell that he was about to try again.

Remy unthinkingly threw the knife at Julien. Normally the distance and angle of which the knife was thrown would not have caused a fatal reaction…but Remy hadn't fully uncharged the knife—if anything, the sudden burst of fear only fuelled his powers more—and it hit Julien with uncannily accuracy.

After the explosion, the families' initial reaction was a dead split between disbelief, shock, grief, and anger.

Remy looked to Bella, but she had fled to her brother's searing side.

X

The wedding was immediately called off. No one mentioned anything regarding that night in the presence of Remy and continued to walk on eggshells around him, even after a conclusion had been reached.

Marius and Jean-Luc spent a whole week arguing over what should be done. In the end, they both agreed to disagree and they would continue to go their separate ways peacefully as long as Remy left the city.

For good.

He never did say good-bye to his best friend. Remy doubted that he would forget the look of utter betrayal on Belladonna's face.

X

Maybe Remy Lebeau slept with too many women. Maybe he had cheated in too many poker games. Maybe he had rotten karma. Maybe he didn't "use his powers for good instead of evil". Maybe he really was the _Le Diable Blanc._

Whatever the reasons were, Remy found himself waking up the next morning amongst the rats in the alley he had been thrown out of the night before.

Today was the day he was supposed to say goodbye to his family. The same family that was kicking him out of the city for good.

It had to be at least two in the afternoon, thought Remy as he squinted at the sun's bright rays. Groggily, he slipped on his sunglasses that had fallen off beside him.

He contemplated on going back to the French Quarter and saying his final farewells. Or he could skip the teary good-byes and steal that Mongoose motorcycle sitting innocently on the curb. Remy didn't have many belongings back at the estate and he could always email his family from a hotel computer somewhere.

The best way to move on with his life was to bury his past. Or so he thought.

With that thought in mind, Remy hotwired the motorcycle and took off to follow the road to whatever destination it lead him to. Maybe he would visit Canada for a while and hang out with other French-speakers of North America.

Everyday it was a different wallet and a different car or motorcycle. Every night it was another hotel, another girl, or a more _I love Lucy _reruns.

Remy was somewhere in northern Pennsylvania when he stopped at a gas station. He was looking at different sandwiches when he heard the television behind the counter going on about a breaking international news incident with headlines of _The Cure Fails. _Remy couldn't help but muse over the use of the capitol _T _and _C._ Only the important stuff every got a capitalization privilege. Not even the _P _in president got that honour.

"_Once again," _Remy heard the news station say, _"In cooperation with _Worthington Labs _and authorities are offering a _one-million dollar _reward for the detainment of the mutant _Magneto—"

One million dollars? Thought Remy with an almost feral grin on his face, for just one mutant? No problem.

"_In other news," _the anchor continued, "_There have been no updates on the Marie D'Ancanto case and her progressive status. The Xavier Institute has been denying the media any prime information and has only consulted with the best medical experts in the country."_

Remy had only heard about the Marie D'Ancanto case in passing. All he knew was that the effects of The Cure had began to wear off and Marie D'Ancanto had been the first case reported. He knew that it was only a matter of time before evolution conquered mankind again.

The television switched to a shot of the Xavier Institute where Hank McCoy was making another statement outside of the gates with a silver-haired, cocoa coloured skinned woman standing next to him as he spoke.

She looked awfully familiar…

X

"Ororo!" It's so wonderful to see you!" his father exclaimed as the woman walked through the door. She had unusually silver-white hair, but could not have possibly been older than twenty-five. Jean-Luc and this woman kissed each other's cheeks and hugged tightly. "I want you to meet my adoptive son,"

After double-checking his sunglasses covered his eyes, Remy stepped out form behind his father.

"_Bonjour, mademoiselle," _he bowed deeply and kissed her hand.

Ororo laughed, "Such a little charmer! How old are you, dear?"

"Remy be sixteen," he answered. It had been exactly two weeks since he discovered his powers. He learned that by touching _any _object, he could charging with kinetic energy and was capable of causing a wide range of explosions. He was having difficulties controlling them because his powers seemed to run in close contact with his emotions and feelings—not that he would ever admit it.

Ororo's face seemed to pause for a moment before she was grinning again, "Let's get something to eat, shall we?" she said. "Remy, why don't you join us?"

Remy's shock ebbed away and his cocky smirk was out again, "Well, Remy's never been one to deny a meal with such a _belle femme,"_

She laughed once again and patted his shoulder as they walked to the kitchen, "That charm of yours is going to get you into trouble one day, Mr. Lebeau," Ororo shook her head.

Once they were situated with their tea and coffee, Jean-Luc finally asked, "So, Ororo, I thought I wouldn' be seein' you again after Cairo. What brings y' down to N'Awlins an' how on earth did y' find us?"

"Well," she said, putting down her cup, "I actually came down because of Remy,"

Neither man attempted to hid their surprise.

"Remy?" Jean-Luc repeated suspiciously, "What about him"

They boy in question fidgeted with his sunglasses insecurely.

"You see," she explained, "I work at a boarding school in West Chester, New York for special and gifted children,"

"Are y' sayin' that Remy's won some sort of scholarship?" Jean-Luc asked, confused.

Ororo sighed, "Not quite. It's a school for children, teenagers, and even adults who have been born, or have developed into mutants,"

"Mutants?" Remy repeated. He had just begun to hear about people who were born with special abilities…perhaps he wasn't alone.

"What makes y' so sure that Remy here's a mutant?" His father asked so brusquely that Remy couldn't help but be touched by his protectiveness.

Ororo didn't hesitate to answer, "My professor built a machine that can hone in on a new mutant's powers—such as yours, Remy. You don't have to wear those silly glasses inside."

Slowly, Remy folded his sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket.

"So you're sayin' that you're recruitin' Remy for some mutant glee club?"

"Not at all," Ororo answered, "Xavier's Institute is always an option and no one would ever be forced to stay there against their will. It's just a place where mutants can be together and not be persecuted for who they are."

Remy couldn't help but ask, "Are you a mutant, too?" He had never met another one before.

Ororo smiled and nodded.

"What can y' do?" He asked eagerly.

She didn't respond, but her eyes slowly began to cloud over until they were just two blank canvases on her face. The winds outside had picked up tremendously and thunder rumbled deeply.

The weatherman had promised clear skies for at least a week.

"They call me Storm," she said, her pupils returning and the clouds suddenly clearing out of the sky like they had never been there.

"Nice trick," Remy whistled.

"No ticks," Ororo said, "Remy, no one is going to force you to come to New York with me. But consider it always an option for you,"

His father looked at him, "So what do you say, Remy? Would y' like t' go t' New York with Ms. Monroe?"

Remy was torn. He could go with the beautiful older woman to one of the largest cities in the world and be with other mutants like himself…or he could stay with the family who had taken him in when he had no one and be with his best friend and star assassin, Belladonna, and continue to build bridges with the Boudreaux's…

He said, "Thanks, but no thanks, Stormy. Mebbe when Remy be older, _oui?_"

"Of course," Ororo's hopeful face dropped, but she nodded understandingly, "Just remember me if either of you are ever in New York, alright?"

She had stayed the evening before heading back the next morning.

"Oh, and Remy?" she said on her way out the door, "It's _Storm, _not _Stormy,"_

"Whatever y' say, Stormy," he answered as the door closed.

Lightning cracked in the uncomfortably near distance.

X

Remy was in Northern Pennsylvania…why not swing by and say _bonjour _to Ororo? It had only been seven years; maybe she remembered him.

It was just another half a day of driving before Remy had arrived at the mansion that seemed to look more like a ritzy hotel in his opinion. Maybe he s_hould _have come here when his powers surfaced. Kids were playing out front in the lawn and he could have easily asked one of them to open the gates for him.

But where would the fun in that be? Remy smirked (**A/N: sighs he never wants to make things easy ¬¬)**

Parking that day's stolen motorcycle in a nearby street, Remy circled the mansion's grounds twice and observed the security system. Making a mental note of the camera rotations and blind spots, he leapt over the back wall on the mansion's property and was able to easily avoid contact with the student body. With a swish of his trench coat, Remy was climbing up the drainpipe.

He figured the second story would suffice and with cat-like agility, Remy effortlessly leapt through an open window and into what appeared to be a bedroom.

It brought back memories, to say in the least.

A staff member's or adults' room; Remy could recognise the faintest whiff of Cognac anywhere. Then again, he thought in retrospect, some of the students could have possibly been sneaking alcohol into the dorms like he had done when he was younger.

Like last month, for example.

_Snikt_

The door had already been opened before Remy had entered, but the doorway now framed a rather unhappy—and hairy—man with knives sticking out of his knuckles.

"Start talking, bub," he growled out.

Remy laughed, "Heel, puppy,"

But this man was_ clearly_ not one to be messed with. He wasted no time in propelling himself against Remy who had quickly stopped laughing ad pulled out a retractable bo-staff. It had been a Christmas gift from Jean-Luc the year he had completed his martial arts training. Remy thought, or rather hoped, that this man's bark was worse than his bite but he soon learned that those claws rather hurt.

He was thrown against a wall that cracked upon the force Remy was thrown with. He groaned getting up, expecting another assault, but he heard the man speak into what Remy assumed was a walkie-talkie of some sorts.

He used the man's distraction against him and reached over in order to touch his bare hands to the mini-fridge and charged it so that he could throw it and make a getaway.

"You'd better get up here, Storm—"

CRASH 

He had missed, but the made a nice explosion. Remy didn't miss a word of what the man had said and instantly knew that Ororo was still there.

"DAMMIT, YOU JACKASS! THAT WAS _THE BEER!"_

_Damn,_ he thought, _that _was_ pretty stupid._

"_Logan? What—?_" It was a response from the other end of the communicator that got smashed once Logan dropped it and accidentally crushed it beneath his boot when he launched himself against Remy in another attack.

This time they tumbled into the hallway. Remy was being crushed from underneath the man—Logan's—knees and those claws were getting unnervingly close until Remy kicked him off and ran down the hall.

Suddenly, he really didn't like this game so much anymore.

Students were screaming and running in every which way in attempt to stay out of the trouble brewing.

Logan was gaining on him, he noticed, so he pulled out several spare cards from this coat pocket, charged them with his powers, and threw them behind him.

The cards were cut just perfectly so when Remy used his powers to kinetically charge them, it gave them the weight of about a quarter. Combined with Remy's aim and the explosive results of his powers, his cards almost always had the desired effect.

Dead accuracy.

One card hit the wall and fractured a major pipe that caused the whole mansion to quake. The second put a hole in the middle of the floor that Logan tripped and stumbled over, giving Remy the edge he needed to get ahead. He wasn't quite sure what happened to the other cards, and with this crazy man hot on his heels, he really didn't care.

Remy jumped the stairs to the main floor three at a time.

"Logan!" a woman's voice cried out as more students ran.

"Stop him!" Remy assumed that Logan was pointing at him.

He was turning a corner when threw a look over his shoulder to see a familiar infuriated man with six claws catching up. Turning his head forwards gain, he saw two people running down the hallway towards him—one girl, and one man.

Remy, almost guiltily, grabbed the girl and locked an elbow underneath her chin, holding her arms down at her sides and pulled her up against his chest like a human shield. He felt horrible for using her like this; he didn't need his deeply buried conscious to tell him so. The young woman was breathing angrily against his arm and Remy couldn't help but notice her oddly coloured hair. Remy didn't get a great look at the girl before grabbing her, but it looked like she had a silver halo wrapped around her furious face.

The man that had been escorting her looked shocked at the stiff girl he held in his arms, not quite sure what to do. Logan's face dropped for half a second as he turned the corner before he looked even _angrier_, if possible.

"I thought we told you to stay in the Med Bay," Logan growled out furiously.

The girl wasn't even phased, "I didn't feel like listening," she answered coolly. Was that a hint of Mississippi that Remy detected in her voice? "Besides," she went on, "Only fathers give orders; you're just a friend." There was an awful lot of resentment at this school, Remy mused to himself, almost forgetting about the girl who he was holding hostage while she calmly insulted a man who looked like he could slice and dice right through them both. The girl whose neck he held underneath the crook of his elbow then addressed him, "And just as a heads up, Cajun, I don' _do _th' damsel 'n distress,"

Suddenly, his feet had lifted off the floor and Remy found himself being flung across the room as he held onto the girl who flew them both straight out the window and onto the main lawn.

Remy groaned, getting up as more students scattered.

Logan did not hesitate to charge right up to him and, once again, Remy's feet were lifted off the ground as he stared at him menacingly.

"Listen, bub," he rumbled, "You don't sneak into _my room _and mess with _my beer—"_

"_Logan!" _the woman said sharply, but Logan only growled over his shoulder.

Remy looked over to see a familiar weather witch accompanied by another man in along coat, running down the lawn.

"Hey, Stormy," he choked out.

The name didn't seem to register with Ororo until the man' raised a clenched and triple claw-wielding fist dangerously close to his face.

"Logan, stop!" She cried out, her eyes wide and almost not believing, "Put him down," she said slowly.

Reluctantly, he did so.

Remy jokingly brushed off his shoulders and said, "How's the weather been up here?"

"Remy?" she said quietly before her face broke out into a familiar grin, "Oh my goodness, look how much you've _grown!" _Ororo ran up and enveloped him into a fierce hug and kissed both his cheeks as everyone stared, confused.

"Storm," Logan said slowly, "Explain. Now."

**X  
****-:TBC:-**

**A/N: Meet Remy Lebeau…poor little sod, ain't he? You could say that he doesn't really make a good first impression ¬.¬**

**(Stupid spell check just doesn't do southern accents! T.T)**

**So this is finally then end of the juxtaposition part of the story, now I don't' have to worry about a time-line so much anymore.**

**I was really surprised when I read the review board and there were **_**a lot **_**of people anticipating an Angel/Rogue fic! Now, I can't exactly say that it's going to be a ROMY **_**or**_** an Angel/Rogue story, so you're just going to have to sit tight and find out!**

**Shameful pimpage:**

_Demons and Angels – by: _RightSide

all of you Angel/Rogue shippers!

_The Prince of Thieves – by: _Michelle2

worry, I have not forgotten about those ROMY shippers!

**--  
**_Ta for now!  
_**Love From Luna**


	4. Picking Up the Pieces

"**Angels and Demons"  
By: Luna Mae  
Updated On: **24 June 2006**  
Chapter Four  
"Picking Up the Pieces"**

**X **

Ororo seemed to just notice the stares and couldn't help but laugh, "Oh, I was a good friend of his father's a while back and I haven't seen him since he was sixteen years old," she hugged him tightly again and asked, "How _is _Jean-Luc?"

Remy's face didn't even flinch, "He's been good,"

"So have you finally decided to register?" Ororo asked.

"Thought Remy'd give the school thing a try," He then admitted, "Really could do with a band-aide or two. That _jeune femme _really did a number on me," he jerked a thumb in Rogue's vague direction.

"Excuse me, Ororo?" Warren interrupted quietly.

Logan, ignoring him, voiced his opinion, "How the hell did you meet someone like Jean-Luc and this punk?"

"Ah, Remy forgot t' properly introduce himself. He was a bit distracted by th' knives y' were waving around in front of m' face. But I be Remy Lebeau."

Logan growled

"Logan? I really think—" Warren tried again.

"Not now, pigeon," he snapped back.

"I met his father when I was about nineteen and in Egypt," Ororo jumped in quickly, "I was broke and Remy's father, Jean-Luc, gave me a temporary entrance to the Thieves Guild while they were excavating an old tomb and a ride to—"

"Thieves Guild?" Logan repeated, looking disbelieving. "You used to be a trained _thief?_" He turned to face Ororo, a look of suppressed shock on his face.

Ororo's cheeks were tinted pink as she admitted, "Once…in Cairo when I was younger. This was before I joined the X-Men," she added quickly.

"And you were a thief?" Logan turned back to Remy.

"Was, is, same thing," he shrugged.

"Um, Logan? Ororo?"

Ororo sighed at the same time Logan was about to snarl something vile at Remy, "What is it, Warren?" she asked.

"Rogue is, um…unconscious,"

The adults snapped their heads in his direction where they saw an apprehensive Warren plucking shards of glass out of Rogue's hair and clothing as he tried to keep her head supported off the ground.

X

_She wordlessly manipulated the magnetically charged molecules around herself and silently rose to the torch, leaving the X-Men and their foolish ideals behind. Once her feet touched the copper pedestal, she approached the small platform to meet the young woman would save her race._

_The girl looked back at her with a mix of fear, hatred, and…possibly self-loathing?_

_However, just past Maria D'Ancanto, there was a face there that shouldn't have been. She wanted to use her powers to get the extra person away from the machine, but her body had a mind of it's own. She couldn't even turn her own head in the figure's direction, but it didn't appear as though the blonde-haired woman cared much for what was going on or had any intentions of altering the plans. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the blonde woman leaning against the railing, watching her actions curiously._

_With another flick of her cloak, she slowly approached the young woman attached to the machine._

"_Don't do this…" she pleaded weakly._

"_I am…sorry," was the genuine reply, but she knew what had to be done to ensure the safety of future mutant kind._

_The blonde haired woman looked at them, conflicting emotions written on her face._

X

"Remy, meet Warren. Warren, meet Remy. Make nice and carry Rogue to the Med Bay. Go on," Ororo ordered and shooed them before turning her rather angry attention solely on Logan, "And what's this _beer _I've heard about?" she asked curtly.

"He blew up my personal stock—!"

"This is a _school, _Logan, _you have to set an example, damn it!_"

X

_They were spiralling to fast for the pilot to control. She felt herself pitying the two woman who would blame themselves should any of their passengers perish while in their care. She tried not to envy their good hearts because she knew that God would reward them in the end._

_The tale end of the jet was torn off completely in a sudden explosion and she instinctively closed her eyes in fear. She prayed to the angels to give her strength and the other men and women the courage and confidence they needed._

_She heard a loud cry slide past her that commanded her eyes to be opened once again. A girl, Marie, she thought her name was, had been thrown from the jet and passed right by herself. As she watched her fall, she tried not to be furious with herself for not reaching out to her when she had the chance. Looking over her shoulder she only briefly saw the figure of a young blonde woman who wasn't affected by the turbulence at all. She stood there still as stone and unaffected as the aircraft continued its spiral. Her hair wasn't even blowing from the winds in the slightest._

_These thoughts were not pondered long for once she had seen Marie's location, she teleported outside of the jet and wrapped her arms around her before appearing back, safely inside._

_Marie's cheek accidentally brushed against her own and made her skin crawl and shudder._

_The girl's heart was hammering so furiously that she was afraid Marie had been injured as she gripped her arm tightly and slowly looked up to reveal wide and poignant eyes._

_She was so…sad._

X

Remy, out of the guilt he felt for using her as a defence, picked her off the ground and accepted the help from the younger man—Warren—as he made sure that they avoided the broken shards of glass. Her head fell to her chest lightly and her hair brushed against their cheeks.

"_I don't do the damsel in distress," _she had said to him, but now she looked so…

Lifeless.

"Be careful," Warren warned suddenly as he placed her arms across her stomach so they didn't loll, "Her powers are activated by skin-to-skin contact and can prove to be fatal,"

In a way, so were Remy's, he thought wryly and then addressed the young man, "Hey, it's Warren, ain't it?"

He nodded wordlessly.

"Y' know y're sheddin', right?" he used his head to motion the small number of white feathers on the ground.

They had entered the mansion and students parted like the sea for the strange group. Some were whispering and others had no problem pointing at them. Normally, Remy would have winked at the nearby group of girls and Warren kept his eyes solely on his destination and tried not to appear self-conscious by the surrounding stares. Rogue would have hardened her eyes and turn her face to cool white marble, having almost forgotten how to care. Even years after that night she nearly killed Logan, few would ever bother her.

Warren paused for a moment to turn and look down behind him, surprised and slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, I made a cross-country flight," he told him, "I must have strained my…my wings," Warren coughed. It was odd telling people about his extra appendages.

Remy arched a brow. It obviously explained the long coat in the middle of spring. Even _he _held off on the trench coat on warm days like these. He still couldn't help but find it slightly humorous that a man was _actually _able to profess to having wings. Maybe this place wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Y' really don' like m' that much do y'?" Remy said with a knowing look as Warren steered them into a well-hidden elevator. He had refused to meet his eyes since they had met. Remy automatically assumed that it was from the affects his eyes had. Red and black didn't always seem that friendly.

His head snapped up almost immediately again and Warren stumbled into the automatic doors. He looked at Remy seriously for the first time as the steel compartment closed in front of the school's rather curious occupants. "I'm sorry?"

"Can't really blame y', actually," he went on, "Remy kinda broke into th' place an nearly got y're girlfriend skewered," He cunningly baited him for information on the girl.

Warren cleared his throat again to hide his embarrassment, "Marie—I mean, _Rogue _and I just met before you ah, made your entrance," he then added, "Moreover, if Ororo trusts you, that gives me no reason not to trust you as well. Who am I to judge?"

The elevator slid open.

"Y're a boy scout, aint'cha?"

X

Rogue felt like she had died…it was so quiet…peaceful…tranquil…suffocating… 

_She was alone. She couldn't feel anything; like emotions were a foreign concept to her. It wasn't a memory, or a form of psyche residue; it was someplace well hidden in her mind._

_Rogue wasn't depressed…but she wasn't happy either. It was in that confusing limbo area of her mentality where she didn't know what to think._

_Or how to think. There was an alien force that gave her thoughts like they had been her own to begin with. Like a friend whispering a suggestion in her ear. There was no voice…but an injection into her stream of consciousness._

"_Look into your soul and feel beyond your mind and relish in your power…Succumb into my influence and cast aside those who give you limitations…and I shall make you a god…"_

X

"This was her hospital room," Warren nodded in the direction of the glass room where she had just been, not twenty minutes before.

Remy squinted his eyes so that they were hardly more than black swords below his brow. His eyes were incredibly sensitive to light, but could work twice as well in the dark. "Should we hook her up to the equipment?" Remy asked as they carefully lifted her onto the bed and resting her hands gracefully on her stomach.

A strange look crossed over Warren's face, possibly humour, "I…don't think that would beneficial, unless you know how to work medical machinery."

"S'pose y've got a point there," Remy agreed, mentally groaning at the awkward situation that he'd love to get out of.

X

"_You are the one that was chosen to lead you're peers into the dawning of a new era…where justice would be at your disposal as you would be treated as a queen to all your subordinates and those not worth the dirt you stand on…"_

X

Remy's attention was drawn back to the girl, "Do y' think it's okay for her t' be twitchin' like that?" He asked. Sure enough, Rogue's face and shoulders began to jerk or twitch compulsively in sporadic turns. Her eyelids were fluttering open and close but did not reveal her pupils. Both young men began to worry with good reason.

"I—I doubt it," Warren gulped slightly, looking increasingly troubled, "Try to hold down her shoulders until Ororo gets back,"

They both stood on either side of the white sheets and reached over to try to hold her down and keep her from jumping or rolling off the bed.

X

"_I can place the world at your feet as though it were nothing more than a common doormat. Ancient treasures have no value against you and armies are powerless in your wake…Reach out to me so that we may _destroy _those who challenge us and we can be this world's last saving grace…" _

X

"_AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!"_ She lurched painfully forward at the slightest touch she felt on her shoulders and threw her arms out wildly, succeeding in knocking whatever stood in their paths across either side of the room.

Something shattered near a nightstand and Rogue heard something else being thrown through the closed automatic doors.

There was silence except for Rogue's heavy breathing into her hands.

"_Mon Dieu, _girl, y' tryin' to kill us?"

"Uh…I—I'm…" Rogue turned around frantically to assess her location and squinting her eyes under the fluorescent lights. Warren had broken off one of the automatic doors when Rogue had accidentally thrown him out into the far side of the hallway. Another young man was detangling himself from a series of wires and pulling his hands away from a broken water glass. She wiped away the beads of sweat that had accumulated on her brow, "I'm sorry…?" she said unsurely.

"Are you all right?" Warren asked, pulling his coat back over his head in order to see and slowly stumble back into the room, looking somewhat ruffled. He moved slowly and carefully through the broken doorway that was emitting a soft array of sparks.

"I'm fine," she said, leaping of the bed and hurriedly pulling the stranger out of the mass of wires from the equipment, "What happened?"

"Remy made th' mistake of tryin' to use th' resident super-girl as a hostage against a madman who, unfortunately, comes with claws as a package deal." He stood once again and looked down at the girl who raised an eyebrow at him distastefully, "Remy apologises for that, by th' way," he bowed almost cockily like he were offering her a dance at a grand ball.

She had said nothing, but put her hands on her hips, annoyed. Of course, she didn't exactly appreciate being pulled into a situation that ended up rendering her unconscious. She reminded herself to be angry with him later once she felt better.

Rogue looked at Warren who could only shrug and share a look of uncertainty with her.

Rogue toyed with the idea of throwing Remy out of the room, but found herself smoothly saying, "Don' worry 'bout it,"

He looked up at her, surprised, "Y're bein' awfully forgivin' for a _fille _Remy held hostage," Remy confessed. He had expected her to shout out angrily, reprimand him loudly, or even deliver a hard slap.

Rogue shrugged, "I know. Probably woulda done th' same thing if I was 'n your shoes." She gave him an oddly familiar lopsided almost-smirk.

Remy stared at her with a masked expression on his face, "Really now?"

"Oh yeah, sure," she said with a slightly dismissive and lofty tone, "I kinda figured that you were just scared,"

He scoffed.

"Remy was _not _scared, _chere,"_

Seeing a potential problem of pride, Warren interrupted, "Are you _both _sure you're really all right?"

Remy gave him another searching look, as the light inwardly clicked, "Aren't y' Warren Worthington's son? Th' _homme _who concocted The Mutant Cure?"

Warren and Rogue both sighed and said nothing, but it gave him the answer he had already assumed.

Remy then turned his gaze to the girl, "An' aren't y' Maria D'Ancanto from th' news 'bout The Cure _failing_?" he said, "That's an odd little group to have down here, ain't it?"

She let out a derisive noise as her hands fell off her hips, "Of all the things to be famous for," she grumbled bitterly, "Call me Rogue,"

"Rogue," he repeated with an appraising voice, "Sounds like a y're quite the tough _fille _then?"

She glared at the challenge, "And what 'bout you?"

"Remy Lebeau, at y're service, _cheré,_ but Gambit be m' business name," He reached out to take her hand, but she quickly pulled it back. Only Warren was the other person in the room who understood why.

"Remy. Physical. Now." It was Ororo who had passed by the room.

"Aye, aye, Stormy,"

Slowly backtracking like she was afraid that her eyes did not deceive her, she looked into the room and all it's occupants. Her eyes roamed the room and the missing door, the turned over equipment and more shattered glass, "What have you been _doing?_"

"Had a party," said Remy with a grin, "Sorry y' missed it,"

Ororo let out another incomprehensible noise of frustration and rolled her eyes, "Come on, let's get you done real quick." Remy slid past the broken door as Rogue looked like she was about to open her mouth to say something but Ororo said, "And Rogue? _Stay in the Med Bay,"_

Her mouth closed and she glared at Ororo's retreating figure as Remy threw them a wave over his shoulder.

X

Ororo and Remy quickly caught up on each other's lives and recent happenings. However, Remy purposely failed to tell her about what had transpired in the last few months. He didn't want anyone to know about Belladonna, Julien, or anyone else in his old life.

Remy was rebuilding, and that meant starting from the ground up. The Xavier Institute was going to be his new home for as long as they would have him should things work out.

"So y've got the son of the man who tried t' wipe out the mutant race an' th' girl who showed him that things don't always _quite _work out th' way y' want to, _both_ hanging out in th' same room together without any bloodshed?" mused Remy out loud.

Ororo sighed tiredly at her young friend's humour, "She's been down here all week by herself, I wanted her to have company,"

"How come y' let her stay here if she took The Cure?" he asked.

"We promised her an education," she said, "She's a senior in high school and only has three more credits to go. Besides," she added, "Rogue is good friends with me and Logan. We couldn't even dream of throwing her out,"

"Logan," Remy repeated with an unpleasant tone, "The badger, right,"

Ororo tapped his knee reflex slightly harder than necessary and Remy's leg jolted with an odd sensation, "Be nice to him," she told him sharply, "He's gotten into trouble because of his powers before and he just lost…a very good friend,"

"What happened?" he asked, sensing a rather long story ahead, and made room for Ororo to sit on the bench next to him.

Sighing deeply, she put the tool away and sat next to him.

"Jean was one of the teachers here," she started.

Remy noticed they keyword: _was_

"She was a strong telekinetic and had good telepathic abilities. We were in Canada on a rescue assignment and we couldn't get the jet's engines online. We were panicking because the dam at Alkali Lake had burst and...and we thought we were going to die.

"Jean snuck out of the jet and used her powers to divert the water, hoist the jet into the air and got the engines moving again. We h-had thought she died after the lake…" she breathed out again gustily and skipped ahead, "A couple of months afterwards, Scott Summers, her husband and another mentor here, realised that she had survived. When Logan and I were able to get up there to check things out, Scott had disappeared and Jean's body was found."

"What happened t' Scott?" Remy interrupted.

"Dead," She answered so shortly that it made Remy grimace, "Professor Xavier explained to us that Jean had wrapped herself into a telekinetic cocoon…but her powers had broken their limitations,"

"Limitations?"

"Her powers were _too _powerful for Jean to control when she first came to the institute so the Professor locked away a large portion of her mutation so that she could control them better. He tried to restore that barrier when Jean returned, but the damage had been done. She…she wasn't Jean anymore. The power was too much for her and corrupted and took over her entirely,"

Ororo paused to swallow.

"She…or rather, the _Phoenix Force, _as we called it, k-killed the Professor and joined forces with Magneto on Alcatraz to destroy The Cure's scientists, benefactors and the mutant behind it all. Logan…he was the one who had to kill her before she hurt anyone else," she whispered softly.

"Logan loved this Jean, _oui?"_ he guessed.

Ororo nodded.

"You can imagine how Scott felt about that," she laughed sadly and Remy wore a lopsided smile. "Now," she said suddenly, "I've got to order the Friday night pizza for everyone. Feel free to come up whenever,"

Remy nodded and watched, with just a little more respect and appreciation, as Ororo left the room.

Eventually, he left as well.

X

Warren wasn't sure if he was staying with Marie because Ororo had asked him to earlier, or if he was genuinely worried just as much as the stranger intrigued him. He watched her as she easily hoisted large machinery off the floor and returned them to their upright positions.

Without having been asked, Warren pulled out a broom and dustbin and began to sweep up the smaller glass pieces of the door and water jar.

"Are you really okay with how Remy used you against Logan?" he asked quietly.

Rogue didn't look him in the eye and shrugged, "No use crying over spilt milk. And I still probably would've done the same thing if Logan went after me like that," She wordlessly held the dustbin on the tile for Warren to sweep the broken glass into.

The damaged had been mostly repaired and the two found themselves in a strained silence. Rogue sat back on top of the bed sheets again and Warren seated himself in the visitor's chair by the broken door.

"I am…sorry," Warren said, "for what happened,"

Rogue looked at him, confused. She wasn't quite sure what he could have possibly been apologising for and said, "What're you talking 'bout?"

He looked embarrassed and scratched his neck, "That my father caused so much trouble and made such a big mistake,"

"You're apologising for your father?" said Rogue slowly.

He nodded, stone-faced.

"An apology from you means nothin' to me, Warren," she said with a rising sense of anger, "You didn't _do _anything. And if you're father isn't about to apologise, I don't want you to make one up for him,"

He didn't respond, and his face continued to burn with embarrassment. In Rogue's opinion, Warren looked nothing less like a child being scolded by his parent and she regretted how malicious she had sounded.

Again, there was another lull in conversation and that was how Remy found them both.

"Well y' two look bored," He commented conversationally as he entered Rogue's hospital room.

It was true. Conversations between shy mutant multi-millionaires and a reclusive and antagonising young women with painful burdens for powers were often rather awkward conversations, indeed. Neither of them had ever been good at small talk growing up.

Both were hesitant of Remy. Rogue still harboured mild rancour feelings for being used, and Warren felt that Remy's personality was slightly challenging and over-whelming.

"Y' up for a card game?" A worn deck of cards suddenly appeared in the palm of his hand.

Rogue frowned at him and was about to tell him that she'd rather not until he pulled a rather promising bottle out of one of his many coat pockets.

"Peace offering?" he said, an almost genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

X

Sometime later that night, Remy and Warren were sitting at the foot of Rogue's bed with lunch crisps and a bit of the remains of Logan's personal alcohol stock (Remy's personal handiwork). He even brought in some of his own.

There was a certain amount of comfort that came with being in the presence of strangers who didn't really know who she was. There were no premature opinions between any of them, just some sour first impressions that they hade made but were soon forgotten after the second or third bottle of beer.

There were no expectations held against her, and she held none against them either. They were three strangers who knew next to nothing about each other that were able to sit down together for a card game like they had done it all their lives.

Reality could wait for them.

Remy told them, "This brings back memories of guys' night back home," Thinking about New Orleans brought back a painful pang of resentment but he continued, "'Cept th' fact that there's a _trés belle fille _present an' we're jus' playin' _Go Fish,_"

They laughed, even though it wasn't that funny. Their reactions were more than likely due to the influence of the alcohol that they had been sipping at for several hours…

"You better watch that charm you've got there, my demon-eyed Cajun," said Rogue, "It's gonna get you into trouble one day,"

Where _hadn't _he heard that before?

Warren had been the most hesitant to talk or drink, but soon enough he was opening up and smiling slightly with Remy and Rogue in between tastes of beer. He had drank fine wine with his meals on occasion, but Warren had never drank alcohol so freely before. Nor had he sat down with two fellow mutants that held no prejudice against him for the mistakes of his father.

"Pass me another bottle?" he asked and Remy tossed him an unopened beer. "Rogue, got any kings?"

"Go fish," she answered, taking another swig, "Hey, Warren?"

"Yes?"

"Before, Remy said that _you _said that you took a cross-country flight and sprained your wing. What happened?"

Warren's coat had finally been discarded and he sat there shirtless and embarrassed, but happy to stretch his sore wings. He swallowed a fistful of crisps. "After the institute contacted my dad when your powers came back, he put a one-million dollar bounty on Magneto's and wanted us to leave the country until he was gone," Warren did not give out his opinion exactly, but he didn't look too thrilled with the idea either, "Remy, got any queens?"

Remy tossed him a card.

"Magneto's th' crazy goon with th' cape and bucket on his head, _oui?_"

Rogue snorted, but then said seriously, "I haven't really thought about what happened to Magneto since The Cure turned out to be only temporary," she said, "But I couldn't really care less as long as he stays out of my life,"

"You two got history?" he asked.

She nodded grimly, "About six months after my mutation showed up, Magneto kidnapped me to fuel his machine on Liberty Island. He hoped to mutate the World Leaders."

"That was _you?" _Remy was openly shocked to learn.

Warren looked thoughtful, "Liberty Island…I remember hearing something about that,"

Remy snorted and threw a crumb at his head, "_Everybody's _heard about Liberty Island, bird-brain."

Rogue and Warren rolled their eyes, "I _mean _that the media didn't explain it in great detail so I looked at some of my father's old documents. But I don't understand why Magneto would kidnap you in order to…" he stopped suddenly, "Oh…I see," was all that he said. Warren didn't want to bring up Rogue's mutation since he already knew of her great distaste for it.

The cards and beer had been forgotten.

Remy gave them confused looks, "Is Remy missin' somethin'?"

"My powers," she explained finally, "I'm guessing Ororo already told you then?"

"Vaguely," Warren admitted.

For some reason, (possibly because the alcohol), explaining her powers didn't hurt her emotionally as much, "When I touch someone skin-to-skin…my mutation kicks and makes me absorb their life-force, personality, memories, sometimes their specific dominant physical characteristics, and mutations. But the person gets knocked out for a while." Remy and Warren were vaguely aware of Rogue fidgeting with her gloves. "The machine Magneto wanted me to use nearly killed him the first time, so he gave me his powers so that I would be killed instead which is how," she laughed in odd dark amusement, "I got the funky multi-coloured hair," She didn't want to relive the moment where she thought she was really going to die.

"Can't really blame y' for getting' The Cure," said Remy passively.

Warren looked at her and the conversation he had with Ororo replaying in his mind, _"Her powers came back during an inconvenient time for her and she ended up hurting one of the students who's also in here,"_

"What happened," He began to ask gently, "When your powers came back a week ago?"

Even Remy, who was the newest, could understand the gravity of the question. Rogue wondered how she should answer. She, out of habit, pulled the gloves up tighter around her hands. They were the first pair she had bought when her mutation activated and she couldn't help but be surprised by how long they lasted.

"It was a self-defence class that I was helping Logan with," She started, "One girl, Carol Danvers, I thought was struggling so I went to help her. But she had been blowing the course, hoping that _Logan _would help her instead." They cringed, Remy in particular, and listened in rapt attention, "We began to spar until she had me pinned to the ground and I guess I just got so stressed out that my powers came back the same way they did the first time. But Carol couldn't let go and I just…absorbed her all the way,"

Warren looked away shamefully and inwardly scorned himself for asking her the question. He was afraid that he had an unusual knack for asking questions with awkward answers.

"Is she…y' know?" Remy tried to be as subtle about it as possible.

"No, no," Rogue answered lightly, "Her body's in a coma in the other room. But Carol's personality…trust me, she's alive," she tapped her head and chuckled darkly.

Remy turned his head slowly, "She's in your…?"

Rogue nodded.

"Is she always there?" Warren asked softly.

Again, another nod, "Always. She's still made at me, so I try to keep her buried deep as possible in my mind," she swallowed, "Or at least as best as I can. Sometimes I see her when I sleep. It's like…it's like she's a constant buzz in the back of my mind." She suddenly blinked her eyes and wiped her nose hurriedly. "And what's this? An _Interview With a Vampire?_ You guys are just trying to distract me 'cause I'm kicking both you're asses at _Go Fish_."

Looking down at his cards and shaking his head, Remy said, "Remind me to teach y' poker as soon as possible, _chere,_"

X

The next morning was the day Ororo said that Rogue would be allowed to leave the Med Bay.

She had stayed up most of the night with Remy and Warren, swapping stories and finding safe places to hide the remaining alcohol bottles while everyone slept. Truthfully, she was too afraid to fall asleep. Nightmares and memories had begun to plague her ever since the incident with Carol. They had been at their worst when she was unconscious after having flown through the window with Remy. Carol had been so furious with Rogue for using her powers…

Rogue greatly appreciated the excuse to stay up all night and talk with someone.

Tittering and stumbling, the three had snuck into the kitchen at the crack of dawn while everyone except the occasional student was still sleeping quietly in their dorm.

"Ugh, at least it's—_hic—_Saturday," yawned Rogue tiredly, rummaging through the fridge and pantries, "That way I can sleep through the next twelve hours."

"Y' mean to say that such a _très_ _magnifique femme _such as yourself isn't sneaking out t' wild an' rambunctious parties 'til two in th' mornin'?" teased Remy with a mildly-drunken smile.

She rolled her eyes; "I was never the party type, even before my powers,"

"Guess y're the same way, too, pigeon?" said Remy, "I'd imagine that a twenty foot wingspan would be kinda hard t' break dance in,"

Warren chuckled, showing two rows of Crest-commercial worthy teeth and rested his head tiredly in his palm on the table.

"Hey, we've still got some donuts left," said Rogue with a positive tone, "You guys want some?"

Rogue hadn't been this light-hearted in such a long time. It was so…out of her character, but for some reason, she didn't seem to mind that much. She wasn't even sure if she had laughed so much with Cody or her old friends back in Mississippi before her powers showed up—before she ran away from home without saying good-bye to her parents.

Remy, she assumed, had more than likely picked up on Warren's personality, or lack thereof. Somehow watching him challenge Warren to a munchkin-eating contest to draw him out of his apprehension while she made a pot of coffee was able to lighten her spirits considerably. ("Remy _so _won," he told a defeated Warren and licked all of his fingers so there wasn't a single trace of sugar left.)

"So do you have a codename for your, er, profession?" Rogue asked Remy with an unsure smile as they adjourned to a recreational room with the large plate of donuts at hand and three coffee mugs. Nothing good was on the television, mostly Saturday morning cartoons and children's programs.

"Collecting," he answered immediately, "An' it never gets old, tha's for sure; always an adventure. Pays well, too," he winked.

She threw him another lazy smirk, but Warren still looked slightly disapproving at the thought of thievery.

"'Got a little over a million dollars in my bank account. An' a bit more over in Europe."

Warren's and Rogue's jaws dropped and they shared a mirrored look of disbelief.

"I'm expecting some really good Christmas presents from the two of you," Rogue told them, "Can't believe I'm hanging around, half drunk, with a couple of millionaires," She laughed to more to herself than her companions, "And my folks said I'd never get anywhere,"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that before," said Warren almost too grimly for his personality. Rogue contemplated the fact he had drank the least amount of alcohol the night before and was undoubtedly more sober. "My mother died in childbirth so I was single-handedly raised by my father. Before my mutation began to show, my father said I would own the world. After my mutation came about, my dad told me that my life was almost over." His tone was almost apathetic, like he had begun let go of his father and his influence.

Remy's frown became stoic and he added, "_Mon pere _was kinda funny about my powers. 'Cept he wanted 'em to be used for the business and heists. Kinda felt like a tool," They each had their own tales to tell, the they realised, and the joviality was quickly evaporating from the room. Perhaps that was why the three of them had gotten along so well. "Guess we could all right a book 'bout it, _non?" _he chuckled. Humour was always the best defence, "Really could go for some more o' that cognac," he muttered.

"I think we hid it behind that shrubbery on the third floor," Warren answered with his eyes closed.

"So," Rogue concluded with a strangely thoughtful/mild drunken expression on her face, "We've all…ran away from home and ended up here," It wasn't a question so much as it was a statement.

"Yes,"

"Somethin' like that," Remy lied. He doubted that he would have ever left his family if it hadn't been for Julien that night. He was afraid that Rogue was going to further question him until a loud angry voice rang out through the mansion.

"_ROGUE! I NEVER SAID YOU COULD LEAVE THE MED BAY!"_ Ororo's angry strides were heard coming down the hardwood, the sound nearly drowned out by quaking thunder.

Rogue groaned and buried her face in a coach pillow.

"She's really become a worrywart," said Remy, sounding amused.

"I can't blame her for being slightly on edge with trying to run the whole school." Warren politely defended the mentor.

"_Rogue,_" Ororo snapped once she had entered.

"You said I could leave on Saturday!" she answered immediately, removing the pillow from her face.

"_After _I give you a final examination—_why _do I smell liquor?" No one answered and she rolled her eyes, "Never mind. You two go to the Danger Room with Logan to give your powers an evaluation. Rogue, _back to the Med Bay _and then we're gong to have you test out Carols' powers with—" she jerked a thumb in Remy and Warren's direction, "—those loons,"

Rogue grimaced at the though of Carol, but was pushed out of the room by Ororo once again to go down to the sub-levels of the institute.

"Danger Room…?" repeated Warren. Remy could only shrug as evilly grinning Logan appeared in the room and escorted them to their impending doom.

**X  
-:TBC:-**

**A/N: Hmm...this was one of those annoying but necessary chapters that needed to be written. Not one of my favourites, but still vaguely necessary. They get better, I promise.**

**It's just so typical for their friendship to start over a bottle of booze nn;;**

_**Just in case no one really understood what was going on in Rogue's head:**_

**I'm worried that I didn't make it clear enough, but when Rogue recalls a memory of someone she absorbed, she sees everything from his or her perspective like she actually **_**is **_**the person. So when she thought of Liberty Island from Magneto's PoV, she saw herself in Erik's shoes, like **_**she **_**was the one with the intentions of mutating the world leaders. As for "The Voice", heh, you'll just have to wait and see--mwahahaha! And since Carol is an entirely separate personality in her head, she's able to view Rogue's memories as well, making almost nothing private in her mind…**

**This chapter was going to be longer…but then it hit a total of **_**seventeen **_**pages and I decided to split it up. I'm going to try to get the next chapter out while I'm on vacation this week. I can probably find an Internet plug thinger in some hotel or cyber café.**

**Fackyews:**

**The new girl at the beginning reminded me of Supergirl. Is that her base? **_**--**__Saturnsdarkness_

Actually, Carol Danvers is a MARVEL© character and has shown up in more than just the X-Men comics. I think she's made an appearance in the _Marauders _and _Fantastic Four _comics, but Carol Danvers being absorbed by Rogue goes all the way back to the '80's. The similarities between Carol and Supergirl are enough to make you want to think though :0)

**The guy Warren gets on my nerves a lot and the whole "I'm a rich boy because of daddy doesn't do it for me**—_Prexistence_

Not necessarily a _Fackyew, _but I can understand where you're coming from. I was afraid that I would be thinking the same thing when I went to see the movie…but after we meet him and his father on Alcatraz with Warren about to get The Cure and seeing how his dad kind of blew him off when Warren said he wasn't ready…I kind of figured that there had been more animosity going on besides the incident when he tried to slice off his wings in the bathroom. You might have to read between the lines a bit, but I'm trying to make it seem that his father, although able to provide him with a good life, kept him isolated and away from the outside world were he thought that people would judge his son because he was obviously a mutant before they met Warren (the dad) himself. That's what I'm going to be trying to put in the fic more, so be prepared for a couple more flashback and history on the main characters.

(Granted, I don't suppose that he _needed_ to pull off a flashy "Gambit"-styled escape on Alcatraz -.-;)

**Thoughts to Ponder:**

**Who—or **_**what—**_**is invading Rogue's mind?**

**What was life like in the Worthington household?**

**Why **_**did **_**Rogue let Remy off the hook so easily?**

**How did Ororo meet Jean-Luc? More importantly…what businesses did they share in **_**Egypt?**_

_**Find out in the upcoming chapters!**_

--  
_Ta for now!  
_Love From Luna


	5. The Short Hand

"**Angels and Demons"**  
**By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On: **1 July 2006  
**Chapter Five  
"The Short Hand"**

**X **

Rogue sat uncomfortably in the Med Bay once again with strange contraptions attached to her head as Ororo breezed through some of Professor Xavier's papers and comparing them to the printed results out of bars and waves.

"Have you absorbed anyone recently besides Carol?" Ororo asked. The name had an automatic reaction on Rogue: _cringe._ "You're frequencies are a little different from your last test,"

Rogue blew a stray hair out of her face, "Yeah, just Remy. Only a little bit, though, when grabbed me and when we went through the window," they had been lucky that it was Rogue who hit the bullet-proof glass first—it would have undoubtedly shattered Remy.

Ororo nodded thoughtfully, "Sometimes I'd like to get inside that boy's head. Would like to know why he does half the stupid things he does…breaking into the _school _of all things…" she continued to rant under her breath.

Rogue knew that she wouldn't have been so outgoing and open-minded to new people like Remy and Warren if it hadn't been for Remy's psyche. She hadn't touched him long enough to really get memories, but just enough to get a serious case of déjà vu and a brief feel for his powers. Rogue knew he'd never admit it, but Remy had been absolutely terrified when Logan was chasing after him relentlessly. She also knew that he had felt a great sense of guilt when he pulled her in front of himself as a shield against Logan.

She decided on letting him slide on that one.

Rogue hoped that Remy's confidence would soon rub off on Warren. During their game the night before, he told them both about how he had been privately home schooled since sixth grade. He had mentioned his hopes he had for going to a university that were all but squashed by his father who wanted to keep control over his son.

Logan had once said that if you try to cage the beast, the beast gets angry. She supposed that was what brought Warren to their doorstep yesterday. However, it was hard to picture someone so shy and timid as Warren turning into an angry beast-like monster.

"I need you to write down all of the people you've absorbed since your power's first manifestation," said Ororo, handing her a pen and paper.

Her mood darkened even more considerably as she slowly recalled every person she had ever absorbed. Her eyes flashed as painful memories surfaced to the front of her mind and each name she wrote was an agonizing moment of shameful guilt. Her happiness was quickly evaporating.

Rogue wasn't sure when Remy's influence had worn off on her completely. It wasn't unusual for her to adapt an unfamiliar personality for a short time after she absorbed a person. Sometimes they would come and go, even months after when they were first absorbed. It was strange how she found herself continuing to act the same way, enjoying the unfamiliar company despite her powers. Yet she couldn't help but worry that they wouldn't be so open to her once they finally saw the extent of her original powers in action.

"All right," Ororo said at last, closing a folder, "You appear to be fine,"

"Really now?" Rogue said dryly, "I never would have guessed,"

Ororo rolled her eyes, "Come see me if there are any future problems." Rogue doubted that she would. "Logan's waiting for you in the Danger Room."

Ripping off the equipment, Rogue slurred a hurried, "Thanks," and ran out of the door gratefully. Perhaps it was because of Logan's persona in her head, but she really hated hospitals. And needles. She inwardly shuddered.

She took her time changing into her exercise uniform—a workout session with Logan was a workout session one should avoid for as long as possible. However, when she entered the Danger Room, Rogue was surprised that it resembled a regular gym, only equipped with the best machinery and technology. Rogue immediately caught site of Warren in a pair of faded grey sweatpants with his wings clenched tightly to his back as he sweated profusely while running on a treadmill.

Rogue also noticed that it looked like Logan was finally getting a piece of Remy while trying to teach him the art of subtlety and tried to convince him that such flashy moves were actually _not _a necessity. He had finally gotten rid of the trench coat and Rogue couldn't help but noticed that although Remy wasn't bulky with muscles like Logan, he was much leaner which probably made him more agile. Rogue also supposed that agility came in handy when he was dodging adamantium claws.

"Rogue?" said Piotr Rasputin, also known as Colossus, as he walked up to her at the entrance in his usual form with a clipboard at hand, "Logan wanted me to work with you on your strength," he said, "We never really got around to Carol so…"

"Sure," Rogue finished, avoiding the potentially uncomfortable situation, "Where to?"

"_Damn it, Gumbo!_ You're mouth doesn't have to be moving in order for you to fight!" she heard Logan yell out in frustration.

"'M sorry, _m'sieu, _witty banter is what motivates Remy!"

"The weights," Piotr head her to another portion of the room and motioned her to a bench where she sat back and tried to be as comfortable as the metal bench would allow, "We're gong to start you off at two hundred,"

"_Pounds?"_ Rogue gaped.

"It shouldn't be that strenuous," he said, putting several metal disks on the her above her shoulders, "According to Ms. Monroe's math calculations, two-hundred pounds shouldn't feel more than about eight to ten. I'll spot you," After showing Rogue the proper way to lift from the bench, he watched as she did about ten reps before adding more weight.

Rogue couldn't have been more surprised at herself as she watched the loaded metal bar rise and fall by the work of her own hands. It was strange having so much power at her command.

Yet every time she tapped in to Carol's powers, her screaming inside Rogue's mind only seemed to intensify like she had an objection against Rogue using her ability.

"Let's try eight hundred," Piotr said over her thoughts.

If Rogue just focused on steadying her heartbeat and the rise and fall of the bar, it seemed like Carol wasn't even there…she breathed deeply.

"Congratulations, Rogue, you've already made it to a half a ton!"

What would happen if she let down her mental barriers, even if for a minute? Would she attack her mind with scathing hatred? Could Carol jeopardize her sanity?

"Rogue? You can stop now,"

"Huh?" she looked up at a concerned Piotr's face, "Sorry, I spaced out there for a second. How far did I get?"

"Fifteen hundred pounds," he said, sounding impressed.

Her arms barely hurt, she thought.

"That's almost as much as I do," Piotr scribbled down some information on the clipboard and checked her heart rate. Logan, seeing how they had finished for the time being, called over to Warren, "Pigeon-feathers, teach Rogue to fly,"

It was an odd command, but Warren put his water bottle down and walked over. Remy had taken his place on the treadmill and Logan made him run just a _little _harder than necessary. Mostly out of spite, Rogue assumed amusedly.

Piotr handed him the clipboard and pen.

"So," said Warren as he flipped to another page, "Flying,"

Rogue nodded, "Flying," she repeated with an almost amused tone.

"Er—have you ever…tried to fly before?"

She gave him a dry look, "Can't say that I have,"

"What about yesterday in the Med Bay when I walked in? Or when Remy grabbed you before?" he tried, "Did you have any control?"

Rogue's brow creased thoughtfully, "Not really. I was just surprised," she said, "And royally pissed off,"

"Um, Is there any chance of you being able to channel either of those feelings again?" Warren asked, "But focus on one or both of them?"

"I…don't really know," she admitted. Truthfully, she didn't really want to try…Rogue could still hear Carol screaming, shouting, and pounding when she used her newly acquired powers.

"Give it a try," Warren encouraged her with a smile.

Sighing deeply, Rogue closed her eyes and attempted to recall the feelings she had back in the Med Bay. She had been startled by Warren had activated the automatic doors looking apologetic as the medical equipment blared loudly that caused her to jump. She had been reading a _Seventeen _magazine—she _never _ready _Seventeen, _so why did she start? Carol was also still present in the farthest corner of her mind like a smothered hummingbird.

Then there was the moment when Remy had thrown her in front of himself, guiltily using her as a scapegoat. Carol burst through her thoughts again and tried to loudly voice her opinion on the situation. Rogue, trying to focus on the moments, slowly opened her eyes and groaned when she saw her feet still firmly planted on the ground.

"Ugh…stupid powers," she muttered out loud with a bitter tone. "Should've known it wouldn't be as easy as it seemed,"

"Nothing ever is," said Warren, "I guess you can just keep practicing,"

Rogue jumped, hopped, leaped, and resisted to flap her arms around wildly, looking frustrated at her inability to get her feet off the ground for more than a few seconds.

"I guess Rogues just weren't meant to fly," she sighed at last, more than slightly peeved. She had been looking forward to flying the most.

Of course, Rogue would later feel horrible for being so bitter about it. They weren't even her powers to begin with and she had ruined another girl's life in order to get them. She didn't deserve to fly.

"You'll catch on soon enough," said Warren to pacify her seething face as they waited for Logan to finish with Remy.

"_Mon Dieu, _there's gotta be some kind of child labour law or somthin' 'gainst this,"

"You're over twenty-one, Gumbo, suck it up and deal,"

Warren looked to Rogue and added, "When my wingspan grew large enough to support me, I practiced by jumping off the top of the bookcases in my father's library. I ended up breaking a window that way,"

Rogue snorted, "I've got a feeling that he wasn't all too thrilled about that,"

"True," he admitted, with the familiar sly smile at the corner of his mouth, "But I…didn't care. I had fallen through and got to fly for the first time outside of the building. After nearly pummelling to my death, of course. I was about fifteen years old and realised that it shouldn't really matter what my father thought,"

She listened attentively as they walked to the water cooler together.

"I'd love to be able to help you more," he said, "I think you would really like an aerial tour of New York,"

"I would," Rogue agreed, tucking a familiar white strip behind her ear and stared at the ground and then added bitterly, "But I don't see that happening anywhere in the near future at this rate,"

"Are y' just _tryin' _to break m' arm?" Remy yelled.

"It got in the way," said Logan plaintively.

"_Jésus Christe,_ would somebody get this maniac _off _me?"

"Logan," Rogue finally called, a grin breaking through her darker mood while she sat next to Warren on a bench, "You're gonna kill the poor boy,"

Remy tore his focus away from Logan and looked over at her, "Boy, _cheré?_ Remy can assure y', _beb, _that he be entirely one-hundred percent all man—OUCH, _PUTAIN!"_

Ororo suddenly strode through the open doors and into the room to pick up Rogue's clipboard with scribbles and doodles on the edges as she had gotten bored earlier watching Logan beat the stuffing out of Remy. She called out to her co-worker with out looking, "Logan! Our insurance isn't going to cover any injuries you inflict on the students anymore! Oh, Rogue, you forgot to fill out a section here," she handed back the clipboard.

"DOESN' _ANYONE _CARE 'BOUT REMY'S WELLBEING?"

X

The next day was the last day of their weekend that was spent by Rogue politely showing Remy and Warren the extensive tour of the mansion and lounging around on the lawn. Sunday, the three had been floating between the Med Bay, Danger Room, kitchen, and their dorm rooms, little other than a sense of foreshadowing on their minds.

Rogue couldn't blame the students for shunning her when she had gone to Alcatraz to get The Cure, but she _could_ blame them for pitying her when she returned to school once again as an actual mutant at Mutant High.

Monday was even more bitter for Rogue.

She almost wanted to be back in the Med Bay with Remy and Warren, playing _Go Fish _all night long with Logan's and Remy's beer at hand. It was like being at a masquerade ball, without the frilly dresses or physical masks. She didn't know them by anything other than what they told her, and they didn't know her by anything that she didn't tell them. Monday morning would be when everyone would be telling Remy and Warren all about the resident vampire.

It only bothered slightly her more than it should because she had already accepted people holding her at arms-length like she did for them. People like Remy and Warren would be much better off not getting attached to her.

She grumpily walked into the kitchen for breakfast the next morning.

"Hey, Rogue," she heard Warren call out, waving a hand. People turned and stared in surprise, "We saved you a seat,"

She wasn't sure whether to accept or take her bagel to go, but Rogue found herself sitting next to an amused Warren and distraught Remy. It was obvious that he was upset because his donuts had remained untouched.

"You okay?" she asked, reigning in her bad mood and poking Remy.

"Rmmhmm nuunnn un mmmm,"

"Huh?"

He lifted his head off the table, "Remy's gotta get a job in order t' be allowed to' stay here," he grumbled

"A _job?" _said Rogue, sounding just as appalled as Remy.

Remy nodded grimly, "That's what Stormy said. Remy's over eighteen an' can't be a freeloader anymore," he sighed.

"What about you?" she asked Warren, "Ororo making you get a job?"

His answer was interrupted by Remy's snort of annoyance, "_Non,_ th' pigeon wants t' go t' _school,"_

Warren grinned guiltily, "Today I'm going to look into taking some classes at New York University."

"That's great!" said Rogue, happy that Warren was taking control of his own life, "Do you know what you're going to major in?"

"Aerodynamics," he answered almost immediately.

Rogue laughed, but her laugh had been lacking true feeling and emotion behind it for a long while; it had been hollowed out over time.

"What kind of job you looking for?" she asked the other young man.

"Remy doesn' know," he said, sighing throatily, "Was home-schooled an' he gets on well enough. Jus' no diploma t' prove it," his head dropped back into his arms tiredly.

A mischievous look appeared in her tired eye, "I'm sure you could find a decent job as a Calvin Klein underwear model or something,"

He muttered something that was luckily muffled from underneath his arms.

"Same to you. I'll see you guys later," she said, grabbing the rest of her bagel and watching Remy and Warren as they finished eating, "Good luck looking at the university," she said to Warren, "And have fun parading around in boxer briefs, Remy,"

"Mmmhmmff,"

The bell had rung and everyone scrambled to get to their classes or activities. Rogue's first class of the day was English, taught by Ororo.

She opened the door and was surprised that the lights were not on and felt along the wall for the switch and flipped it skyward.

The classroom was entirely empty.

There were boxes on the far side of the room and desks stacked up on top of each other in rows on the side of the classroom. Everything was packed away.

With a final glance at the desolate room, Rogue ran out of there and dashed down the hall at top speed, a dreading feeling increasing in each stride. The only place Rogue could think that Ororo would be was in the office, filing through more papers. She threw open the door wildly, her hair blowing in the gust of wind she created.

Ororo looked up behind the desk, "Yes, Rogue?'

"Where's the first period English class?" she said, one hand still on the door and the other pointing in a vague direction down the hall.

Ororo left the desk with a sigh, the papers and bills dropping back in disarray, "I had forgotten to tell you…in light of everything,"

"Tell me what?"

"We've had to cancel some of the senior classes,"

Rogue stared, slack-jawed and horrified.

"I'm sorry, Rogue," Ororo told her sincerely, sweeping the papers into a semi-neat pile.

"But you can't do that!"

"We had to," Ororo apologised, "We couldn't handle everyone. I'm sorry," she said before leaving the room.

It took her a minute, but she eventually dropped her schoolbag and ran after her teacher.

"What are you going to do with all the kids out of class?"

"Give them more Danger Room sessions, get them jobs, clean the mansion, volunteer work, _I don't know, _Rogue," she snipped, annoyed, and her pace quickened down the hall.

Rogue was relentless and matched her stride, "But Ororo!" she protested insistently, "I'm supposed to be graduating in a couple of months!"

"_I know_, Rogue, okay?" Ororo answered snappishly. She was looking more and more stressed each day, "But we're short on staff members, our classes are packed, and there aren't enough hours in the day to teach everyone so we had to cancel some until we can get back on our feet,"

"I can teach!" Rogue said desperately, pointing to herself, "I'm your best English student and you know it!"

Her lips thinned, "Rogue, you're not certified to teach a class—"

"Just until summer," she continued to follow her mentor down the hall, "I just need to get these last three credits. _Please, _Ororo,"

"You couldn't possibly handle school, studying, exams as well as two or three teaching positions. And even if you _could _teach some classes, it would hardly make a dent in the schools curriculum,"

"Unless," said her Cajun friend waving a pointer finger in the air with an idea, accompanied by Warren, "Remy an' th' Pigeon teach some classes, too. Remy's been getting' kinda tired of just helping out th' munchkins in the Danger Room. Still got the singe marks," he added under his breath.

Rogue couldn't help but grin. Just after two sessions of helping out the younger kids in the Danger Room, Remy had cursed them all to high heavens and back.

Apparently, he and Remy had been on their way out of the mansion when both heard Ororo and Rogue's dispute.

"And when I apply to the university, I can just sign up for a couple of evening classes and teach during the day with no problem at all," said Warren helpfully, "It would almost be like having an extra three professors on staff."

The same number they had lost.

They had Ororo cornered. She sighed tiredly with hands on her hips as she stared at the ground like it would suddenly spit out its own opinion.

"Alright," she said at last. Rogue broke out into a wide relieved grin. "Let's go to the office and figure out what you guys can teach." Ororo never called it _her _office; it would always be Professor Xavier's.

After an hour-long debate about what classes they would be teaching, all were fairly impressed by the conclusion. Rogue would be teaching two English classes in the morning for eighth and ninth graders and take over Logan's beginner defence course after dinnertime. Remy, everyone was pleasantly surprised to learn, was actually a big history buff.

"Y' gotta learn a thing or two 'bout art and history when y' be breakin' into museums on a daily basis," he explained.

"It's a damn good thing that I'm the one teaching English," Rogue muttered to Warren who sniggered.

"Remy heard that,"

He wouldn't be applying for a job outside the mansion, much to his relief, but instead would be taking on a full-time teaching position that included four various history classes, a mechanics workshop, and two Danger Room sessions on a daily average.

Warren had chosen mostly morning and early afternoon classes since his college course were in the evenings, (the fact that his classes were the same time as Logan's prime Danger Room sessions was completely coincidental, he assured them). He would be instructing two classes of geometry, one algebra class, and started a yoga/meditation class for the mutants who needed to relax in order too harness their powers better.

"Yoga," Remy snorted as they left the room, "I can't believe y're teachin' _yoga,_"

Warren sheepishly hid his hands in the pockets of his coat, "It helped me become more flexible and manoeuvrable with wings growing out of my back when I was younger. Maybe there are some kids here who need the same thing,"

"Yeah," Rogue agreed, "I always wanted to be able to twist myself like a pretzel,"

"It's not necessarily how you can move, it's—"

"Okay, okay, _yoga _Remy can look over," he said, "but _geometry?"_

Rogue's nose wrinkled upwards and she said, "Who even _uses _geometry?"

Warren sighed in light exasperation, "Actually, most engineers and architectures use rather complex—"

"Forget I asked," she muttered as Remy snickered.

"As a matter of fact, Remy, you probably know more geometry then you think,"

The man in question smirked, "Remy's _gotta _hear this,"

They were still walking down the entrance staircase and towards the kitchen.

"When you're on a heist," he explained patiently, "You calculate the distance from where you stand to where your prizes is, and the security guard or camera. Now, perhaps if you were to draw a line connecting everything, you'd have a shape. Possibly a scalene triangle. It's just basic common mental math you know automatically. Maybe if you sit in on one of my classes next week, I could show you—"

Remy snorted, "Thanks, but no thanks,"

"I never liked numbers," shuddered Rogue (**A/N: and the author…)**,"But after I accidentally absorbed one of the more brighter students here, I ended up breezing through a whole year's class worth in just one summer course. 'Spose it's one upside of my powers,"

"There's th' spirit, Roguey!" cheered Remy, slinging an arm around her shoulder and throwing open the swinging door to the kitchen.

If it had been anybody but Remy or Warren who said that, Rogue probably would have punched them.

The concept of camaraderie was starting to grow on her.

X

It was at eleven o'clock that day when Remy, Rogue, and Warren slumped out of one of Logan's Danger Room sessions.

"That man's got some sick sense of humour," grumbled Remy.

"He just…wants us to be prepared?" said Rogue, sounding unsure herself.

Remy scoffed.

"I'm going to be too sore for that tour today," Warren said, "I think I should reschedule for sometime next week,"

Rogue's lips tugged at the corner of her mouth, "Don't let Logan get to you so much. He's a nice guy."

Warren and Remy shared doubtful looks.

"Y' keep talkin' 'bout him like he's yer personal teddy bear,"

Not acknowledging him, Rogue continued, "We can go off campus for lunch and then swing by the university, if you want," she suggested, wiping her sweaty forehead on a shirtsleeve, "After we shower and don't look like we've just crawled out of hell's sweatshop,"

"Sounds good to me," said Warren.

"Remy be up for it. He wouldn't mind lookin' at th' local clubs if we pass any…"

Rogue shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"I keep forgetting you're over twenty-one," she said, "You what? Twenty-three did you say? You'd be lucky if you acted at least half of your age on a good day,"

"Y' insultin' _moi?_"

"He actually reminds me of a distant cousin of mine," Warren trailed off playfully, "Terrible man…very bad alcoholic,"

"Now I knew y're jus' insultin' me,"

They had reached the split of the hallway that began to divide the east and west wings for the girls and boys dorms when a muffled explosion was heard from the recreation room.

Rogue groaned.

"That was probably Sam Guthrie, he's a new student here, too," she explained, walking back down the stairs and peaking into the room and cringed, "He…has this weird mutation that keeps sending him through the walls." She shook her head.

Remy quirked his head, "Sounds like an interestin' boy,"

"You guys get showered and changed and I'll meet you back down here in half an hour. I gotta go tell Ororo about the new skylight we've got,"

They nodded as she waved them off. Rogue changed her direction down a different hallway towards the Main Office where Ororo was often found nowadays. The door was slightly ajar and Rouge could only just distinguish the voices. One was Ororo's, and the other two sounded vaguely familiar, but Rogue just couldn't put her finger on it…

She hoped that her professor wouldn't mind her interrupting. Rouge could only guess that the hole in the south Recreation Room's wall would be deemed that of mild importance. She knocked lightly before opening the door and peaking in.

"Excuse me, Ororo—?"

"Rogue," she stood, startled by her entrance and quickly made her way across the room and looked back at the guests nervously, gripping at the hem of her blouse. She looked back at Rogue who was staring at the two other people in the room with a cold sensation in the bottom of her stomach, "This is Allison and David Danvers…Carol's parents,"

X

"That maniac has it out fo' me," said Remy, throwing the door open to his room. It was only his second Danger Room session with Logan and even though Remy had nearly twelve years of martial arts experience, he had not been trained to battle anything quite like a man called _Wolverine_.

"Well," said Warren, not trying to sound like he was against him but voicing the reasoning, "You _did _attack him and almost got Rogue hurt,"

Remy cringed, "S'pose that wasn't th' brightest of ideas, _non?_"

Again, Warren made a face that looked like he didn't really want to say what he thought, "It's…not exactly what I would have done, no,"

Both were in Warren's old room, and both were new roommates. They sat on their respective beds and kicked off their shoes.

"But Marie's a _gentile fille,_" said Remy, "She said she was cool with it, _oui?" _Warren didn't see the worry clouding his eyes. Even after his apology, he couldn't help but reminisce on what he had done. Rogue would remind him of killing Julien, and Julien of Belladonna, and Belladonna of New Orleans.

Home.

Warren nodded, perhaps sensing the uncertainty in his voice, "Yes of course and I would assume so," he then said, "But I have only known her for about twenty minutes more than you have,"

Remy said nothing but laid back on top of the covers as Warren sighed.

"I can't help but wonder how she's lived before her powers activated," he continued to tell Remy, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his arms dangle, "I mean, Rogue can be sarcastic and easily annoyed," he then chuckled, "In case you haven't noticed,"

"It's what y' call bein' a teenager," Remy told him with his eyes still shut and glad that _those _years had finally passed him. He didn't really like to, but sometimes Remy found himself examining someone else's feelings. He knew for a fact that Rogue, while obviously having many problems on her shoulders, could probably take them all in stride. "M'sure y' were th' same way. Remy still is,"

Warren looked at his roommate on the other side of the room, knowing that he hadn't ever been as boisterous as either Remy or Rogue when he was eighteen.

"Not t' mention," he added, sitting up once again, "She's lacking in one of the most important of the five senses," Both understood that the ability to touch was often overlooked and unappreciated, "Remy'd be bitter 'bout it, too. Was th' same way when he was sixteen; couldn't touch anythin' with out it explodin' for weeks,"

"It must be hard," said Warren quietly, "Living with only four out of five senses,"

Remy sighed tiredly and tried not think about those long painful solitary weeks out on the bayou, attempting to harness his powers, "_Oui,"_ he said, "No one likes being dealt the short hand in life,"

"I wish we could help," he thought aloud sincerely, "Maybe she wouldn't be so…bitter all the time," Warren had seen how her eyebrow would kick up more than slightly if she was annoyed and remembered well how she could deliver her patented death glare when someone was tittering on thin ice.

Warren and Remy couldn't help but think along the same line: _Why did they both care so much about what Marie was thinking?_

"Mebbe we can think o' somethin' eventually," Remy agreed, but did not linger to long on the subject. Thinking about how she had glared at him when she was angry, or smiled when she laughed with them, or lifeless when she was sad made him _not _want to think about her. He hated it when he was forced to think _so much_, "But right now, Remy jus' wants t' sleep for th' next decade or two,"

The three of them were no longer strangers, and the safety net of their friendship had finally been pulled away. There would always be a sense vulnerability and a chance of pain when they trusted someone other than themselves. Especially if they shared a similar personality; it only made everything more dangerous. Now they would band together after one almost blissful and intoxicated night away from the rest of the world to face reality as their past lives caught up with them.

They had laughed with each other. They had trusted each other. They had shared secrets with each other. And just like that, it opened an endless opportunity for disaster. By establishing a root of dependence between them, things could only grow more complicated.

**X  
****-:TBC:-**

**A/N: Well **_**that **_**sounded foreboding! Maybe I should make this an angst/drama fic instead…? Oh, and sorry about the short chapter…I've been pressed for time to get this out.**

**Who **_**honestly **_**saw me bringing in Carol's parents:smirks:**

**Rogue's Personality:** I'm sure that some of you are concerned that Rogue seems out of her usual character, but I just wanted to make it a point to explain why. In all of the cartoons and comics, Rogue is raised by Mystique and Destiny who trained her to be strong and independent. The movies do not depict Rogue in _any _allegiance with Raven or Irene, and therefore she is not as strong as her other selves when her powers come into play or when she absorbs Carol. Mystique will be making an appearance in later chapters, and maybe some…:coughs:…plot references will be explained. Until then, I'm trying very carefully to give Marie some sarcasm and sharp wit and a rather bitter outlook on life. I apologise if it seems too forced.

_A Cure – by: _Swyrel  
h t t p / w w w . f a n f i c t i o n . n e t / s / 2 9 5 9 2 9 7 / 1 /  
For all of my ROMY buddies :0)

Feel free to recommend a story that I can throw up here to suggest for all of my lovely readers—any Rogue/Angel or Rogue/Gambit pairing accepted

**--**

_Ta for now!  
_**Love From Luna**


	6. Persistence of the Past

**"Angels and Demons**  
**By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On: **18 August 2006  
**Chapter** **Six  
**"**Persistence of the Past" **

**X**

Rogue's insides knotted themselves instantaneously and she found herself unable to move, "Do they…do they know?" she asked at last, finding that her knees had gone weak. She needed support. Remy, Warren, Logan, Ororo, _anyone_. She couldn't face her demons on her own.

Something was making her stomach churl.

"Not everything, Marie. Why don't you come and sit with us?" She only used her given name when there was a serious matter at hand. Ororo tried to take her elbow and lead her to a seat, but Rogue withdrew her arm and kept her feet rooted. Carol was fighting with at least ten times as much force as she had before. She hadn't noticed the lack of attention she was paying to her mental shields.

"How much?" Rogue croaked.

"Just enough to know that our daughter was killed under the most _prestigious,_" it was said with hateful sarcasm, "mutant school in the country," snarled Carol's father, David Danvers. He was dressed in a lieutenant's uniform, a hat tucked under his arm.

Ororo sighed, probably for the countless time that evening, and tried not to look at Rogue's reaction, "Mr. Danvers, your daughter is not dead. It is just that her primary complex mentality and personality have been temporarily relocated—"

Carol was resisting Rogue's shields ferociously and brought her down to her knees, not that anyone noticed. David Danvers was yelling obscenities at Ororo and Carol's mother split her anger by yelling at them both.

"_Let me talk to them!" _an unpleasantly familiar voice cried breaking through all of the other psyches.

"Leave me alone!"

"_Let me talk to my parents!"_ The pain was excruciating and Rogue's vision had nearly disappeared.

"Please…_no,_"

"_I JUST NEED A MINUTE!"_

Rogue gasped weakly and gritted her teeth and, with no real response to Carol, she surrendered to a tidal wave of memories, personalities, and an uncomfortably familiar darkness.

"Hey!" said Rogue's voice, "Cool it!"

The room stared at her in surprise as she clambered off the floor like she had used her legs properly before. Mr. Danvers' hat had been thrown towards a bookcase and Ororo's and Allison's hair were practically crackling with electricity.

"Mom…David," she addressed them shakily, stumbling as she walked towards them like a clumsy dear learning to walk, "It's me. Carol,"

Her parents stood stock-still as their daughter who was stuck in another's body embraced her family tightly. Carol didn't know what had happened to Rogue and would only assume that she was hiding where she had been forced into for the past several days.

"You…you can't be," her mother said, wised-eyed and pulling herself out of her daughter's arms.

"No!" Carol yelled, "I swear it's me!" Remember—remember when I flew to Phoenix one weekend for a concert a-and you both thought I was staying at Angela's house down the street until she called to invite me to the mall?"

Her mother was backing away fearfully and her stepfather collected his hat, muttering under his breath.

"Or," Carol tried again effusively, "How about when I lifted up the van because my basketball got stuck underneath?" Her parents tried to leave the room, but Carol blocked them off one last time, "You have to believe me!" she cried, attracting the hall's attention.

Her mother looked over at Carol once again with fear in her eyes, "You're not my daughter,"

The words stung, but Ororo was there to catch her when she collapsed in a puddle of tears until Rogue reclaimed her mind and wasn't sure why she was crying.

"Shh, shh," Ororo was rocking her back and forth, shooing away students, "It's okay, Carol,"

"_Rogue,_" she corrected painfully. She tried to fruitlessly find Carol who had retreated, dejectedly, into a dark crevice of her mind. Rogue wanted to lock her away and restore the balance to her mind, but everything felt so out of control and beyond fixing. She gave up entirely and let her mind fall into an endless sea of faces.

"MY NAME IS _ROGUE_,"

Only now she wasn't as sure.

X

She had been told that her two patients would be interesting characters. Ororo and Scott had called for her doctoring skills immediately when they walked out of the Blackbird's hatch each supporting an unnamed person on their shoulders. 

"_Is everyone all right?" Was always her immediate question as she hurried down the hanger._

"_The girl was knocked unconscious by a tree branch," said Ororo._

_She used her telekinetic powers to carry the two almost lifeless bodies to the Med Bay as her friends walked besides her._

"_And the other?"_

"_Thrown into a vehicle," Scott answered._

_She was acutely aware of an angry blonde woman storming down next two her colleagues. The woman stomped furiously, but her feet made no noise. She wanted to turn and question the blonde, but her mind had its own destination and forbid her to move. Noiselessly tramping besides them, the young woman followed her down into the hospital room as her Scott and Ororo went to shower and get cleaned up._

_Placing both patients in separate rooms so that she would be able to look at them individually, she went to work on the young girl first. She turned over an arm and rolled up the sleeve and pulled down the elbow-length gloves to look for anymore prime injuries other than the bump on her head. She attempted to rotate the arm, but the moment her bare hands touched the young girl's skin, she was shocked by a slightly painful sensation that ran up her arm and through her mind._

_She withdrew her hand almost immediately from the magnetic hold and confirmed the thought that this girl was a mutant, not quite sure if she should be more relieved or worried. _

_A young blonde woman who had followed her movements without a sound sneered spitefully as she put on a set of gloves to further examine her patient._

"_Stupid bitch," she growled out angrily at last, "You just get your kicks by ruining everyone else's lives because YOU CAN'T HAVE ONE!"_

_Unable to turn her head in the blonde's direction, she could only continue to remove the minor articles of clothing like gloves, coats, boots, and socks to inspect the mysterious girl and soon her…father? Uncle? Friend?_

_The other ghost of a girl present in the room was screaming loudly, obviously not caring who heard her._

"_YOU RUINED MY LIFE!" she yelled, "I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENED TO BRING YOU TO THIS STUPID INSTITUTE—YOU DESTROYED MY FAMILY!" she tried to strike Marie but her hands went right through her like Kitty's would have. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU AND EVERBOYD ELSE AT THIS GODFORSAKEN SCHOOL!"_

The girl continued to shout obscenities as she reached out to touch the girls hands… 

X

"Bobby?" she said, stirring into wake.

His hands quickly withdrew from her limp and covered ones and he folded themselves on top of a small pile of flowers on her bedside. Rogue had forgotten just how blue his eyes were until he looked up at her.

"Hey," he said simply.

Rogue scooted herself into a sitting position and looked at him warily. They hadn't spoken much since they had ended their relationship several months ago. She never really had to worry about dealing with ex-boyfriends before and she wasn't quite sure what to expect and waited with relative patience for him to speak first.

"How…how are you feeling?" he asked, pulling his hands off the bed completely and into his lap.

"I'll live,"

He nodded, "Kitty wanted me to give you these to make you feel better," Bobby held up a covered plate filled with at least two dozen cookies and put it on her nightstand. Rouge doubted that she would be eating them in the near future. Kitty's cooking was…interesting, to say in the least.

"Thanks," she answered quietly. Seeing how he didn't look like he was about to leave anytime soon, Rogue added, "Is there…anything else?"

Bobby looked like he would deny so for a moment, but he eventually nodded his head, "I just wanted to say good-bye before I leave. And thanks,"

"You're leaving?"

"I thought I'd go back to Boston again to see if I can clear things up with my family. Especially Ronnie,"

Rogue had given him the idea when they were dating.

"And I just wanted to thank you for, you know…just—just thanks,"

What on earth was he thanking her for? Rogue wondered, as Bobby scratched the back of his neck and she sighed. This was obviously going to be a long, awkward and cringe worthy conversation.

X

"Mr. Worthington, are you alright? You seem to be rather _unusually _concerned about this interview," said the Dean.

"Oh?" Warren flushed and sat up a little straighter, "I apologise. I'm just having a family emergency at home and I can't help but worry," His words were lucid enough and the Dean, his interviewer at New York University, had no trouble believing him. Warren sincerely wished that his worry for Rogue in the Med Bay had _stayed _in the Med Bay with her unconscious body.

"Ah, well I do hope things work out for the best," said the Dean, sticking his nose back into Warren's folder, "You seem to have been home schooled for the better part of your life," he noted appraisingly, "Not very common, but many people thrive under different circumstances. Tell me, how was your home schooling handled?" The Dean had yet to make the connection between Warren and his father.

"I studied from seven to three o'clock on the weekdays and sometime Saturdays," Warren informed him.

"Wonderful, wonderful…" the Dean trailed off, leafing through more of the papers that Warren and brought for the interview.

During the gaps filled with silence, Warren found himself adjusting his long coat nervously out of habit.

"Wonderful transcripts, Mr. Worthington," he said, "Wonderful, wonderful…"

Warren inwardly sighed.

X

"Cab's here, popsicle," Logan had made his silent appearance in the doorway, "Time to load up,"

"Thanks, Logan," he turned his head over his shoulder, "I'll be right up,"

Rogue picked at the flowers he had given her, using them as an excuse to not look at him.

"I'll see you soon, okay, Rogue?"

She nodded, still avoiding his gaze. He continued to stand next to her hospital bed and let out a barely audible sigh before slowly turning away from her and walked away. Rogue strained her ears to listen as his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

With her gaze fixated on the flowers, she spoke, "Logan?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I'm sorry for what I said the other day," Rogue couldn't help but feel mounds of unresolved guilt when she had angrily snapped at Logan when Remy pulled her in front of him as a human shield. She hoped that he understood the apologetic tone she was trying to convey and wouldn't have to go much further than that.

Logan appeared as calm as ever, understanding, and told her, "Don't worry 'bout it,"

And that was all that was needed.

"_Bonsoir, _pussy cat!" said a new cheeky voice that had joined them by sliding his way into the room. Logan growled, resisting the deep urge to throttle the resident Cajun whose ego seemed so strong that it was nearly its own sent. "Ororo wants t' see y',"

Logan let out a feral rumble from deep within his throat, but left with his fists clenched.

"So sleeping beauty has awoken, _non?_" Remy strolled over with his usual air of confidence, "Y' suppose t' wait for yer prince charming, _chere,_" he _tsk_ed, "Remy apologises for running a bit behind schedule,"

His joke brought a weak smile to her face, but her gaze did not even flicker towards him. She was pulling off the petals of her fourth daisy.

Remy's smirk dropped, if only slightly as he approached her bed and sat himself at the foot of the bed, "Y' all right, _chere?_" he asked, his tone sincere.

"I'm fine," she said, sounding assuring enough and even lifted her head to look at him briefly before returning her glaze to the bouquet.

He looked at her dubiously "Remy thinks yer lyin',"

She let out a frustrated noise from her throat before turning her head in his direction again and sneered, "And how would _Remy _know what _I _feel?"

"S'called empathy," he informed her, maintaining his level tone, "The ability to read emotions and have an influence on them. But Remy doesn't need his powers to know that y're hurtin', _chere,"_

She didn't respond, so Remy took it as a cue to continue, "'S like bein' constantly aware of how everyone around y' is feelin'," he explained, "I can feel their feelin's _almost _like they were m' own," He knew from what he had learned about her powers that Rogue understood that feeling one hundred fold, "But what Remy _don't _know is _why _y're feelin' so sad,"

Rogue looked at him, feeling frustrated, "I killed a girl and I had to live through watching her parents blame me and blame the school," she spat bitterly, "Why do you think I'm like this?"

Remy had heard _all _about the incident in the Main Office, via the gossipy Jubilee.

"Jus' do what Remy does, _chere,_" he said, "Burry th' past an' move on,"

"Remy," she said doggedly, "I _killed _someone; this isn't something I can exactly move on from easily."

A muscle in his jaw tightened which luckily went unnoticed by her.

"The past can only affect yer future if y' let it, Rogue. Burry it as best, and as fast, as y' can an' keep movin'," he stood to leave, _severely _disliking the topic that they were approaching, "An' as long as that Carol character still has a heartbeat, she ain't dead,"

"Remy," said Rogue. He reluctantly turned around to face her and quirked an eyebrow to show that he was listening, "Why are you in New York?"

The question should not have surprised him as much as it did but, again, he didn't show it, "Remy was lookin' at other options besides home," he lied. He was met with a familiar doubt-filled face and saw that the conversation needed to be quickly steered away from him, "So who's th' boy that was in here b'fore?"

"Bobby Drake," she muttered under her breath.

Her quiet attitude was quickly brought to is attention and Remy sat back down, "Y' wanna talk 'bout it?"

The sadness and deep seeded regret that ran across her face was easily picked up by his empathy and for a moment Remy thought that she wouldn't answer until Rogue looked up at him, "Old boyfriend," she answered finally, "And he was just saying goodbye before he went back home to Boston,"

As horrible as it made him feel, Remy could easily admit that he never would have expected Rogue to be the type of person who had a boyfriend, even without the condition of her powers. She had seemed so fiercely independent, if not standoffish and snappy at times. In Remy's opinion, she was better off with not worrying about the trivialities of teenage angst.

"Y' bothered by him leaving?" Remy asked, a strange sensation in his stomach. Something like aggravation felt towards the person who had hurt her and the desire to prevent her from hurting again. He had forgotten how good it felt to have something worth protecting.

Rogue shrugged and went back to fiddling with the daisies, "I dunno. We've were friends for a bit before we started dating last year and I guess I'm kind of jealous that he gets to go home,"

He gave her a curious look, "Y' bein' held here 'gainst y're will?"

She shook her head, "No, it's just that…" she sighed, "I left Mississippi without saying goodbye to my parents and I thought that once I got a handle on my powers that I would be able to go back. Then I met Bobby and I decided to stay a bit longer and by the time I got The Cure, all I could even begin to think about was me and Bobby."

"Y' still got feelin's for him?"

Rogue looked torn between two answers, "Sorta, I guess. We broke up a couple of months ago. I then swore to myself that I would got home as soon as I graduated since there's no _me and Bobby _anymore or even any hope for marginal control of my powers. Not to mention my graduation has once again been pushed back into late July,"

"Can't y' just take a weekend off or somthin'?"

She didn't exactly give a direct answer: "If my parents don't accept me, I'm going to travel around a bit," Rogue then shook her head, "When I leave this place, it's going to be for good,"

X

If Remy had been surprised by Rogue's statement, he didn't show it or say so. He didn't question her motives or reasoning either, but let the sentence hang in between the two like tantalising curiosity that had the ability to do more harm than good. Rogue was grateful that Remy did not ask why.

She would be too ashamed to say that she was running. Running away from her powers, running away from Carol, running away from the people that made it so hard to breathe without resentment, running away from her enemies, running away from the X-Men; the heroes of her life. Everyone at the Institute was a hero in their own way, except for her. Rogue could never prove herself enough without people looking down on her with disdain for innumerable reasons.

She had nearly killed Logan on three separate occasions just within the first week they had met.

She had nearly mutated all of the world leaders.

She had hurt those who cared about her when she left home and when she came to Xavier's.

She had abandoned her rightful genetics and her part on the evolutionary scale by getting The Cure.

She had put Carol Danvers in a coma.

She was slowly losing control of her powers.

No, it did not escape from Rogue's notice that her migraines had increased, or that she was losing hours of sleep every night because the nightmares of the people she absorbed had come back to haunt her. The only person whose memories she could not recall was Carol, for which she was grateful.

Rogue's main concern was sharing her problems with the next person who visited her who was, to no surprise, Ororo, who came to check up on her status.

Ororo was already up to her nose in problems and the last thing Rogue wanted was to give her more. She had been making such excellent progress with the Professor regarding her powers when he was alive and Rogue felt that she had lost all of her accomplishments that had been made.

Her English professor was talking to her, but the words didn't quite reach her as Rogue's thoughts ran rampant in her clustered mind. It had taken most of the afternoon, but she finally had a handle on the psyches and Carol smothered and buried.

"Ororo," she said at last, cutting off her teacher in mid-sentence, "My psyches have kind of been…loud…lately," said Rogue delicately. Visions and memories of everyone she had absorbed were surfacing left and right whenever she slept or found herself unconscious in any way. The fact that Carol was able to roam free through her memories was what really frightened her.

Ororo frowned with a serious look on her face.

"Maybe your powers have just been kind of…clogged up or building up while you had The Cure," she thought, "Like building an insufficient dam. Maybe you just need time to adjust with your powers again like when you first had them?"

"But now I can't sleep without having dreams about memories that aren't even _mine,_" she said.

The frown creased deeper on Ororo's face, "How long has this been going on?"

"Since the incident with Carol," she said quietly.

Ororo sighed tiredly and sat down on the bed next to Rogue, "You use your mental barriers to keep Carol out as best as you can, correct?"

Rogue nodded emphatically and Ororo thought a little longer.

"Perhaps…you've been using the personalities and the psyches of the people you've absorbed to keep her pushed back. Like an extra or stronger shield that keeps all of the memories fresh in your mind that only get relaxed when you're sleeping or unconscious," she then shrugged, "It's just a theory that, granted, isn't that well thought out. I could probably find you a mutant genetics specialist like Nathanial Essex at Worthington Labs—"

"That's okay. But how do you figure all of this?"

She gave her a half smile, "It's all abstract thinking. Something the Professor taught me when it came to Jean," Another moment of silence for the deceased professors, "But thank you for telling me about your concerns," she smiled genuinely, "Go get some rest, Rogue. You need to start teaching in a couple of days."

"You mean I can actually _leave?_"

Ororo rolled her eyes, "Hurry up before I change my mind and make you stay overnight for observations,"

Rogue didn't need telling twice and bolted for the door and to the elevator.

As she waited inside, Rogue couldn't help but humour the thought of the need for battle-themed elevator music. The doors parted and she was once again inside the actual school.

She barely made it around the corner before:

"Rogue? Rogue," said Kitty frantically, running down the hall and, Rogue realised, near tears. She was still in her Danger Room exercise uniform and the sweat was running down her cheeks. "Has Bobby already left?"

She nodded feeling a deep sense of pity for the girl, "Yeah. Sorry, you just missed him,"

Kitty eyes began to look far off and broken and she turned her face away.

"Oh, okay…thanks,"

Even after she and Bobby had broken up, him and Kitty had never started to date, which had truthfully taken Rogue entirely by surprise.

"He said he'd visit," said Rogue awkwardly.

She didn't even notice that Piotr had spotted them in the hallway until he walked up to them, "_Katja?_ Are you alright?"

Kitty snuffled out something incoherent to those who tried to listen.

Piotr and Rogue silently exchanged glances, Rogue's looking slightly panicky and Piotr's of concern.

"_I've got this one,"_ he mouthed to her.

Rogue nodded heavily and gratefully as she walked past them to her room to change, and maybe get in a nap before dinner.

X

_BRRRRRRRIIIIINNGGG!_

Remy was in the kitchen attempting to rediscover his southern culinary skills during his free hour to create his own jambalaya like his _tante _Mattie had done so many times before in his youth.

_BRRRRRRRIIIIINNGGG!_

"Can someone get th' phone?" he shouted into the neighbouring room. The students' jovial laughter could be heard from ever crook and nanny in the entire mansion as they played their games and interacted with each other.

Humans were awfully social creatures; Remy couldn't help but notice resentfully as he thought about his friends and beaus down in New Orleans that he had left behind. If they could only see Remy now, growing up, acting mature, _teaching_…they just might not recognise him.

_BRRRRRRRIIIIINNGGG!_

He sighed, annoyed, and called out to nobody in particular, "Sure, Remy'll be glad to get th' phone!" as he grumbled while wiping his hands clean of the sauce and picked up the ringing device.

"Y'ello, y've reached the Xavier Institute for gifted munchkins, this be Remy, how can I help y'?" It was about as professional as he got.

"Remy?" said a quiet voice.

Said person stopped twirling the phone around his finger and pulled the receiver closer to his mouth with both hands in fear that someone else would overhear.

"Bella?"

He heard her sigh in relief, "'Alo, _cher. Ç__a va?_"

X

"And these are the dorms," said Colin, opening a random door to reveal a moderately sized room, close in similarity to his own dwelling place at the mansion, "Do you plan on boarding at NYU?"

"No," answered Warren, "I live pretty close by,"

"That's cool," he said, "You'll be able to take a couple of courses and some summer classes in two weeks if you get your info in on time for the second interview,"

Warren nodded along in the conversation. His father had always taught him to be a regular raconteur for what he assumed, future debates and discussions in the "family business".

"So what do you personally think of the school?" he asked.

Colin grinned widely like he was holding back a dirty laugh, "Classes are a real drag but the babes are _hot!_"

A muscle twitched in Warren's eye, "Ah," was all he said, wishing that he had a student tour guide that was more interested in studying books rather than the female percentage of the school. He could only be grateful that he was staying at the Institute and not the dorms.

X

It wasn't until two o'clock that afternoon did Warren trudge through the mansion doors. He almost walked past the Rec. Room until he saw a moody looking Cajun sitting on one of the many sofas.

"Hey, Remy. Anything interesting happen while I was out?" asked Warren, approaching the ashen-faced figure.

Remy grunted over the beer bottle, "Rogue's up an' about again an' her ex-boyfriend ditched her t'day t' go back t' Boston,"

He was happy to hear the Marie was better but said nothing of the subject, "You look like something's bothering you," Warren said, observing Remy's tight and withdrawn posture.

He still refused to acknowledge him fully and took another sip, "Jus' tired,"

Warren, however, looked at him doubtfully as Remy finished the bottle and went on to another. It was setting off warning bells in his head. The more that he thought about it, Warren had rarely seen Remy in the past week without alcohol at hand. However, Warren did not feel comfortable reprimanding someone else's unfortunate habits and stared at the drink with a certain amount of distaste.

He hoped that perhaps, in time, the habit would fade as Remy took on more responsibility at the mansion.

"Warren," Remy said slowly, eyes transfixed on the television. The said person hadn't noticed his blatantly staring and mental analysing, "Look," Remy sat up and pointed to live CNN broadcast.

It was the footage that made Warren cringe just as much as the words displayed at the top of the screen.

_MAGNETO SIGHTED IN NEWTON, IOWA_

The camera must have been from a helicopter because it showed an aerial display of the green landscape. Police cars had been overturned or thrown into the dismembered trees like they were a child's _HotWheels _cars. Army tanks had arrived too late as they conversed with witnesses and authority officials about the resent happenings and sightings.

"_Mon Dieu," _Remy breathed.

"Magneto," said Warren, his heart stopping.

The anchorwoman continued to speak as a national political map was displayed across the screen with small red spots that formed a nearly straight line across the West Coast, and Central United States, _"Authorities are alarmed by the sudden amount of the mutant Magneto sightings in the past two weeks that may possibly allude to his destination residing on—"_

"Hey, anything on the TV?" Rogue said suddenly from behind, leaning over the back of the couch.

Warren fumbled with the remote to flip it off and Remy leant back casually like he had been there all afternoon, "Nope, nothing at all," he said, unknowingly holding his breath.

Rogue could have sworn she heard someone say: _"I hope she didn't see the headlines,"_

"Really?"

"Really," he said with an extra firm tone as though trying to convince himself.

"Okay…" her eyes narrowed suspiciously and flickered her eyes closely between the two who avoided the eye contact.

_"Stupid fuzz ball game is totally rigged, anyways,"_

_"_Merde,_ she looks like she already knows,"_

_"She's going to find out eventually…" _

There weren't that many people in the East Recreational Room, twenty at most, but it sounded like everyone was talking. She tried to match the voices to the faces of the students as the sounds grew louder and louder. Rogue suddenly felt so aware of all the minds and thoughts around her: suffocating her, crowding her, and yet exposing her all at the same time.

She could see Lance Alvers and several other students cheering near one of the game tables just as well as she could see Piotr still in deep conversation with Kitty on the end of the couch. Then there was another group of rowdy students watching a sports game on the second television in the room, throwing chips and popcorn in all directions. Rogue was also unfortunately aware of the several gossipy girls giggling together, huddled in a far corner and sparing meaningful glances at whoever the boy-flavour of the week was.

"_I wish that she didn't look so sad…"_

"_How come a girl like _her _ends up hanging out with guys like _those?_"_

Whispers of disembodied people swam around her mind, ensnaring her thoughts as she tried to think clearly.

She needed to breathe.

"_And there's Rogue looking all mopey _again,_"_

It vaguely occurred to her that her powers, or possibly Carol, might have triggered something unusual. On average, she would be able to identify just who, in her mind, was speaking or having any form of influence on her.

"_I wish that _I _could fly…or have Warren carry me,"_

_"WHAT KIND OF CALL WAS THAT? FRIGGIN' ASS-BLIND REF!"_

_"Stupid Magneto. 'Wonder what kind of kooky plan he's got going on this time,"_

As quickly as the feeling had come, Rogue felt her eyes coming back into focus as she stared down at the somewhat guilt-ridden faces that stared at her worriedly.

Rogue could only dismiss the passing feeling as another result of the dormant psyches in her mind. Nearly a minute had passed until Rogue was able to speak, "That beer is going to rot you're your liver, Cajun,"

"Delayed reaction?" he said, idly noting her spacey moment.

She didn't answer, but began a long trail of thought. She wasn't quite sure how, but Rogue could tell that something was amiss, and neither would tell her. It didn't escape her notice that she had heard Magneto's name mentioned in passing.

It made feelings like anger, hurt, betrayal, and frustration resurface in her mind as she thought of something concerning Magneto that her friends would not say.

If there was one thing in life that Rogue hated, it was being used. And yet, she found herself analysing some of her only friends and honing in on the weaker of the two who would be most likely the first to break. Remy would have been a harder nut to crack, having obviously grown up much differently from Warren. Shy, and timid, Warren was definitely her best bet at weaselling information out of.

"Are you…feeling better today?" he was hesitant to ask in fear of a sensitive topic especially under her withering stare.

"Let me see the remote, Warren," she said steadily.

"Really, Rogue, it was nothing you should—" he said, not meeting her gaze.

"Damn it, Warren!" she snapped angrily, banging a fist on the couch, sending a splintering sound lacing up the framework that silenced half of the room. Rogue had nearly forgotten about the alien powers inside of her, one of them being super strength.

He looked up at her, startled by her tone and not necessarily the now wobbly couch and stared at her silently.

Feeling guilty for lashing out at him, Rogue inhaled deeply and rubbed her temple, "Please, Warren?" she didn't quite say it sincerely, but it wasn't insincere either. It reigned in genuine pleading and forced back her anger that she held towards being lied to.

Wordlessly he handed over the television clicker and both he and Remy watched as she flicked on to the news station. The held their breaths when they saw that the program had gone to a commercial interlude.

"What did it say?" she asked in that dangerously even voice, "The headlines, _what did they say?_"

"Jus' that trouble be brewin'," Remy shook his head.

Warren sighed, "It's Magneto…they think that he's returning to the east coast,"

**X  
****-:TBC:-**

**A/N: Nnyea…not wild about this chapter—too forced…I'll probably go back and edit at a later date. So now that we've got Magneto coming into play, what do you think this means for Rogue? Will Warren get accepted into NYU? _Why does Remy resemble an alcoholic so much?_**

**So, you've got a eensy weensy bit of ROMY in this chapter…meaning I should probably satisfy some of those Warren/Rogue shippers sometime soon, eh?**

_**Does everyone pretty much understand what's going on with Rogue's mind thus far?**_

**Thank you so much for the support while I was away, everyone! Truthfully, my typing skills are actually a little rusty from the lack of use **

**Coming (relatively) Soon: **

Remy's phone conversation with Bella  
Staff lounge privileges!  
The mansion gone bankrupt  
Powers going haywire  
The return of "The Voice"  
Many _Pirates of the Caribbean _references…

I leave for France in five days!

…

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHH!**

_--  
__Ta for now!  
_**Love From Luna**


	7. The Dear Bonnie Lass

**"Angels and Demons"  
****By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On: **30 September 2006  
**Chapter Seven  
"The Dear Bonnie Lass" **

**X**

_She was be pulled back by at least a half-dozen men. She cried out in anguish as she watched her mother be ushered by the other soldiers and tried to reach out to her. The metal fence began to cry as it was bent at the twitch of her fingers and she could hear the men's boots sliding in the mud._

_For a hopeful moment, she thought that the gate would fall, but a solider that had overseen the problem raised the blunt end of his gun and succeeded in knocking her unconscious._

X

Rogue awoke with a startled and strangled gasp, feeling the same pain that Erik had felt over sixty years ago. Almost belatedly, she noticed the need to dive out of bed to avoid being pelted by her stereo, alarm clock, pens, paper clips, and various metal-consisting objects that had come flying in her direction. They crashed against the wall and bed frame and Rogue silently prayed that no one heard.

She sat silently on the floor to listen for footsteps running down the hall and see if someone would come bursting through her door in a moment. Sixty seconds later, Rogue detangled herself from the sheets and stared at the broken matter on the floor and bed. Physical proof of her psyche residue. With grim thoughts running through her tired mind and Carol's smothered snide opinions, Rogue knew that she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that night and decided on visiting the kitchens.

To her surprise, the lights were already on, the freezer open and the resident Cajun was muttering in French and searching for…something.

"You're up late," she noticed.

"Early," he corrected her from the fridge and not in the least bit startled by her presence, "Past midnight. Technic'ly mornin',"

She grinned lopsidedly and sat at the table with her head rested on her palm, "Whatever you're getting, grab me one as well,"

Remy held up the contents in his hands, "Mint Chocolate or Cookie Dough?"

"Mint Chocolate,"

He handed her the ice cream as well as the rather large spoon that looked like it would be better suited for scooping soup and both silently brooded over their respective problems, eating in silence.

"So what's botherin' y', _chere?_"

Shrugging, Rogue answered, "Nothing. It's just getting too warm to sleep comfortably. Something bothering _you?_" she asked over the full spoon.

Remy assured her in the same manner she had, "Nothin'. Too hot t' sleep," An obvious lie on both parts. Remy and Rogue, warm-blooded southerners, were wearing long sleeves and pants and the air conditioning was on in most of the hallways. It couldn't have been hotter than seventy-five or eighty degrees outside and both of them knew it, too. Rogue didn't want to share her problems with her powers with anyone other than Ororo right now and Remy doubted that she wanted to know about his phone call with his ex-fiancée.

X

"_Mon Dieu, _Remy, I've been worried sick 'bout y',"

He was thankful that Belladonna wasn't there to see the shock written across his face. Rapidly recomposing himself, Remy found his voice, "_Bonjour, Belle,"_

"I had t' call some people to find y' and when someone suggested th' Xavier Institute in New York, I thought I'd give it a try," she then chuckled, "Must've been fate sayin' hullo when y' picked up th' phone,"

"Yeah," said Remy, though it lacked the southern belle's enthusiasm, "Musta been,"

"I've missed y' so much an' y' left without sayin' good-bye!" she said hysterically and possibly with a hint of anger. Remy knew better than to anger an assassin. At the same time, he could hear some of the students jumping around and possibly running down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"Listen, Belle," he said hurriedly, "'M sorry that I left in a rush, but I need t' go right now. Why don' y' call m' t'morrow 'round ten?" Remy could practically see the pout that marred her flawless face.

"_D'accord,_" she said nonetheless, "Ten it is. I really wanna talk t' y', okay _cher?"_

"_Oui, je sais," _he said, _"A demain,"_

Tomorrow it was. To Remy, it seemed like he was only postponing the inevitable.

X

The next time he saw Warren and Rogue was just several hours later at the morning exercise routines. Thankfully, Ororo was the one who usually ran the morning Danger Room sessions for conditioning and endurance. Remy was counting down the hours until he would be guarding the phone in the staff room to hear from Bella.

Rogue was practicing separately from the trainees since she had yet to learn the limits of her powers. While constantly maintaining her indestructibility as well as her inhumane strength without a second thought, she had yet to learn to wrestle the power of flight away from Carol.

She found a guilty pleasure as her fist crushed a six-inch deep slab of metal. It was invigorating…and she was only warming up. Never before had she had the entire Danger Room to herself. Due to her lack of power, the professors had usually given Rogue a partner to watch her back, but now she was on her own. She loved it, soaking in the independence like an unhealthy drug.

A flip, a dodge, a carefree smile…the adrenaline made Carol disappear almost entirely. With a sudden amount of surging confidence, Rogue thought she would attempt another try at flying and thought hard of bringing her feet off the ground as a wall of metal jumped out of the floor in front of her.

A sudden wave of thoughts and memories swarm and overturned the tables in Rogue's mind. Visions of falling through her bed when a gun was pointed at her head, running through walls, phasing through a rowdy game of dodge ball, feeling anxious as a sharp blade in the Danger Room went through her chest and hit the wall behind her. Clutching her head, she tripped over her feet and fell but didn't hit the floor.

The floor in the Danger Room, at least.

Rogue opened her eyes…and found herself staring at the ceiling of the jet hanger.

X

"Did you know," started Warren and his usual peacefully calm voice as he twisted a blade of grass between his fingers, "That there is a type of bird that cannot live in a cage?"

Rogue lifted her head off the ground in interest.

"It's called the quetzal," he explained, "And it would actually die if it weren't living free,"

Warren and Rogue were sitting so far away from the mansion that they were nearly off the property. It had been several hours after the incident in the Danger Room and no one had dared to coax Rogue into telling them what had happened.

Ororo had been right on the borderline of a severe panic attack and thankfully Remy and Warren had enough combined sense to call Logan away from his mechanics class.

He had been able to pick her sent where she was exactly just before she disappeared easily enough. Logan said that the trail just vanished into thin air…or into the floor.

The two professors plus Remy and Warren had done a quick mental analysis of the mansion to figure out where the location was beneath the Danger Room and ran down into the jet hanger. They found Rogue sitting almost in an eerily calm manner underneath one of the wings of the Blackbird like she had already known that someone would come for her.

"Hey," she had said quietly, barely meeting their worried gazes, "I didn't know the password to get out so I waited,"

Ororo and Logan had tried to ask Rogue into telling them what happened but she had just shaken her head and said, "Please…not right now," they respected that and left her alone.

Several hours later during a free period that he and Rogue both shared, Warren was able to found her sitting outside near the cliffs, almost off the property. Granted, he had to ask around and do a quick aerial search for a bit until he actually _found _Rogue, but what mattered most was that she seemed no worse for wear.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, dropping her head back into the grass.

Warren regarded her with his usual sincere smile and said, "I just remembered when you told me and Remy about wanting to leave the Institute once you graduated. I don't really know why you would want to leave a place like this. It's practically perfect here,"

"I don't like perfect," Rogue told him decidedly, "Perfect is dull," with a quieter tone than before and her gaze still on the clouds drifting by, she added, "I just want to see what else is out there, you know?"

He knew quite well. He had spent the last two decades living under his father's thumb and doing everything he was told. Warren had always wondered if there was more to life than business protocols and work.

"Where would you go and what would you do if you left?"

She considered several answers for a moment, "Find Magneto before he finds us and then see my parents if I live,"

"That's awfully morose," he noted, giving her a look.

"We're all a little morbid on the inside," she said, closing her eyes and breathing in the spring air deeply.

"Yeah," Warren agreed slowly, looking down at her still face, "Maybe just a little,"

X

True to her word, at exactly ten o'clock that evening, Belladonna rang up the mansion.

Remy had been sitting in the staff room for a better part of an hour, guarding the phone and snapping at almost anyone who dared to bother his brooding time. He would take turns with his glances. Check the watch. Glare at the phone. Watch. Phone. Watch. Phone. Watch. Ph—

_BRRRRRRRIIIIINNGGG!_

Remy leapt out of the chair and attacked the phone in fear of someone else getting to it first.

"'Alo?" he answered smoothly.

"_Bonsoir, mon amour,"_ she purred on the other end of the line, "How's New York?"

"_Bon, bon…"_ he said, "How's N'Awlins?" Remy was actually rather reluctant to know the true answer.

Bella made an indifferent noise, "S'been better. An' New York?"

"S'good," Dear god, Remy hated small talk with a passion.

Her voice had suddenly turned into a whisper, "Oh, damn, wait a sec, 'kay, Remy?" He could hear muffled yelling in the background, "No! I'm on th' phone with Amy…! I don' care! Call 'im later!" The receiver was suddenly pulled back up to Bella's mouth, "Sorry 'bout that, _cher,_"

Remy was suddenly hit with a dreading thought, "Bella, do either o' our families know that y're callin' me?"

She giggled, "Naw, _cher, _s'just y' an' me,_"_

_Merde_, that wasn't good.

"Do y' know how m' family's doin'?" he asked her. Perhaps he should call them sooner or later and give them an address. Truth be told, he _did _miss his Henri and Theo…maybe his _père, _but only a little. Jean-Luc _had _been the one to get him in this predicament in the first place.

Belladonna said thoughtfully, "Hmm, not particularly. _Mon père _says t' avoid th' thieves at all costs."

Meaning nothing had changed.

"But," Bella said with a sneaky tone, "I was actually thinkin' 'bout visitin' y' for a week or two sometime soon while things cool off down here,"

God, he needed a cigarette. Badly.

X

Their phone conversations continued all the way into April. Every Friday evening while Warren and Rogue monitored in the main Recreational Room, simultaneously doing their respective homework, Remy would wait in the staff room for news from the south or occasionally receive a document via fax machine. Sometimes he just needed to read over some papers, and other times he had to give his signature. Belladonna had actually risked life and limb to get in contact with his brothers to give them an address.

By cooperating in every possible aspect, it was the only way of making sure that Belladonna _stayed _in New Orleans. He had tirelessly worn the excuse of saying that he had to work, that he was needed, he had no free time and that a visit didn't seem probable at the moment.

Remy was pacing furiously in the staff room, weaving through the furniture as he listened to Bella drone on about something or another while he tried to read about the final engagement plans for Henri and Mercy. He was also thinking about those damn test papers that he needed to grade because Ororo said that the needed a grade as proof that they weren't goofing off in class. Which they weren't.

Most of the time.

"An' so I told Marine that there was _no way _that she could take on the six guards on the east end of the building, plus th' security on the Herzog case—"

Rogue walked into the staff room casually, sipping on a soda in one hand, and another unopened can in the other, possibly to offer to him.

He made a shoo-ing motion with his free hand and mouthed to her, _"Go!"_ To which she replied with an annoyed look and rested a curled wrist on her hip that clearly said she was offended. Remy threw her an exasperated look, _"Please go?"_ he tried.

"—all b'cause o' some asshole ownin' a stupid precious jewel o'—"

"Well you don't look suspicious _at all, _Remy," Rogue said dryly. She was motioning to the floor that was covered in papers that the wind from the open window had thrown across the room, empty wrappers, and a small stack of beer that was strictly forbidden.

Bella had stopped talking at the sound of a second voice, "Remy," she said, anger creeping into the assassin's tone, "Who's in th' room wit' y'?"

Remy cringed and sent an unmoving Rogue another look, "No one, Bella, jus' th' maid,"

"_Maid?"_ Rogue replayed.

"Remy'll have t' call y' later, _belle,_"

"But—!"

"Au revoir, chere," Click. 

"Someone from home?" she guessed with a flat and not amused look.

He gently reached out with his empathy and could feel her genuine concern and piqued curiosity hidden underneath a layer of anger and annoyance. Remy guessed that it didn't go unnoticed by her that he hadn't talked about his past as much as she and Warren did.

"She's my…" Remy trailed off. What exactly was Belladonna to him? Were they still engaged after everything?

"Clingy girlfriend?" Rogue guessed wryly.

"_Oui," _relieved that she had given him a decent alibi, "Somethin' like that," Remy didn't think that anyone noticed when people just gave out excuses to the people they were questioning. It made things all too easy.

"You sounded so excited to be talking to her," she said sarcastically.

"We didn' 'xactly part on th' best terms," he said truthfully, "She asked around an' found out Remy was here,"

"What's wrong with wondering where her boyfriend wandered off to?"

Remy said, "Well, her boyfriend was kina hopin' that by not showin' up for their date that she might take a hint," I half truth, but a lie nonetheless.

Rogue frowned and her eyes narrowed. Quite coldly she said, "That's mean, Remy,"

"_Chere, _y' don' know th' half of it," he shook his head.

"Try me," she challenged.

He looked at her defiant figure that had placed the soda cans on the table so that she could rest both of her hands on her hips, "Y' don' wanna know," he told her.

"Then is there anything I can do to help?" she tried, "I _am _a girl after all. I know how twisted the female mind is,"

"Thanks for th' offer, _beb," _he said sincerely, chuckling slightly, "But Remy thinks this is a battle he's fight on his own,"

X

He rubbed his temples tiredly, trying to prevent the mother of all migraines. Rogue had rolled her eyes and walked off about an hour ago and thankfully Bella hadn't called back. The stupid television was still buzzing about something or another and Remy almost didn't notice when the ten o'clock news mentioned the name Magneto.

His eyes snapped open belatedly and Remy was once again thankful that Rogue was not in the room anymore as he watched the report.

"Remy," Warren had opened the door, "Rogue wanted me to tell you—_ooomph!_" Remy had pulled him into the room and shut the door behind him so quickly that Warren nearly lost more than just a couple feathers. After Rogue's reaction the first time, Remy didn't want her to know about the most current sighting. "What's wrong?" inquired Warren sharply, pulling back out of Remy's grasp.

"Magneto," And Belladonna, he mentally added, but Warren didn't need to know that.

The atmosphere suddenly changed, "Was there another sighting?" Warren asked seriously, looking over towards the television.

"Lake Erie in northern PA," Remy shook his head, thinking about the distance he had progressed, "He's getting close," Too close for comfort.

"Should we warn somebody? Ororo might want to know," He had a distinct feeling that Storm was already aware of the progressing problem. She had an uncanny ability to know what was going on in the mansion, politics, and even the Morlocks at any given time.

Remy answered negatively, "Wouldn' do much help. No one can stop 'im," after a moment, he then added, "People think that he's headin' t' Washington, not West Chester. But it's doubtful,"

"What could he want with the X-Men if Xavier is gone?"

"Y're askin' Remy like he knows,"

No one did. As much as Remy hated to admit it, Magneto was a wild card, much like himself in a way. He had his own connections; many that the public did not know of and he could quite possibly be the strongest mutant on earth. The younger kids of the institute saw Erik Lensherr as the "bad guy" from the Saturday morning cartoons. Magneto didn't see himself that way, but rather a person fighting to prevent another holocaust after having witnessed first-hand the damage in WWII. _That _waswhat made him so dangerous. Someone who believed he was doing to right thing and was willing to kill for his cause. He didn't go around shouting that he was evil or planned on taking over the world. Erik was smart and obviously had something planned.

"Does Rogue know?"

"Remy hopes not,"

They could only wait…and hope that she wouldn't kill him when they would eventually face each other.

X

_The cave was whispering to her, beckoning her to enter. The crevice was wedged into the side of the cliff that could quite have easily been overlooked by the few that passed it by._

_But she knew where to look for the crack. It first came to her in a vivid dream when she was only a child, but the reoccurrence of the depiction of the cliff for the years that came led her to believe that she was destined to find it. A higher power had chosen her to unlock one of the greatest secrets, untold to mankind._

_She was the Chosen One, and she would stand beside her master as she watched him rise to power, armies crumbling before him, countries bowing down to him as though he were the god supreme—_

X

"Miss D'Ancanto," said a whiny student. Her voice was enough to shake Rogue out of her slumber and she lifted her head off the desk in the front of the room. Ororo hadn't been lying; teaching and dealing with annoying brats was _hard._ It had been only three weeks since she had begged Ororo to teach some classes in order to graduate. "I don't understand this question," she said.

"What question?" sighed Rogue, leaving the comfortable position behind her desk.

The girl Rogue believed to be named Aley or Alex or something similar held up the questionnaire paper, "Number twelve: _Why would Gene refuse to confront Finny about the competition and other various problems he felt were growing between them and severing their friendship?_ Does that have anything to do with why he pushed him out of the tree?"

Her two classes were both reading _A Separate Peace _by John Knowles. The story was a first-person narrative during the WWII time period at an all-boy boarding school named Devon in New Hampshire. In the story, studious and slightly dark-minded Gene is sharing a room with Finius, a kind, and athletic, all-around nice guy. As the plot develops, Gene grows envious of Finny because he can be so careless and so genuinely _nice _about everything he did but doesn't confront him about it. Finny tells Gene that he's his best friend; a sign of affection that wasn't usually spoken about in school, but that only seemed to anger Gene more.

Rogue sighed, "How would you feel if you hated someone for just being a nice?" she asked, "Gene was jealous that he wasn't the same way and just let the problem sit and stew in his mind for so long without sharing it with anyone that it eventually led him to act out violently and injuring Finny."

"But I thought they were best friends!" said another student, "Best friends don't push best friends out of trees!"

The students murmured in agreement.

"Who thought they were best friends?" Rogue asked them, daring to re-think their opinions, "Finny and Gene? Just Gene? Or was it just Finny?" The class thought about it for a moment, realising that the friendship had been one-sided. "So, it would probably be hard for someone to tell their "best friend" to stop being such a nice person, wouldn't it?"

"Would that solve anything even if they _did _talk about it?" someone asked.

"I dunno," Rogue shrugged, now sitting on the front of her desk, "Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't," She didn't think the class liked the teacher not knowing everything.

"So what if," a boy with prominent freckles in the back said, "Gene had just said Finny was his best friend and gave, like, a hundred percent towards being best friends? Would he still have pushed Finny out of the tree?"

"I can't tell you what someone else would or wouldn't do,"

"…Is that a yes or a no?" The kid just wanted to put down the right answer on the paper.

Rogue sighed again.

"Tell me," she said to the boy, "Even if I _hadn't _run away from the Institute two years ago, would I still have been eventually used to try and mutate the world leaders?"

The class was silenced. It was, unfortunately, common knowledge amongst the students about _all _of the events that had taken place on Ellis Island.

"I…dunno," the boy said, suddenly humbled.

She shrugged, "And I don't really know if Gene would have pushed Finny out of the tree. Sometimes the situations we're in control _us,_"

No one raised their hand for the remainder of the hour and Rogue couldn't help but smirk, slightly smug.

At the end of the book, however, Finny and Gene _did _make amends, but it was only a day before the cartilage from the broken member clogged Finny's aorta artery and he passed away.

How awful it must have been to feel so betrayed by your best friend and even deny the incident.

She watched as her students left the classroom once the bell rang but didn't move from her position on the desk. Her hands were braced on the front, taking some wait off of her feet as she leant against it. Rogue wasn't sure how long she stood there, just listening to the sound of her breathing. If she really focused on it, she was nearly able to drown out the sound of her wandering psyches…and Carol.

"Rogue?" said Warren, peaking in from the doorway, "Do you want to get some lunch?"

She thought of declining and just enjoy the emptiness of the classroom that harboured streaks of early afternoon light that played off the windowpanes and reflected off the sheen desks' surfaces. However, she found herself nodding and taking long strides across the room to the door that she locked behind her.

"You seem a little out of it," Warren commented.

Denying it seemed like the most logical answer in her mind, yet Rogue found herself saying, "I haven't been getting much sleep," she admitted at last, "Every time I do, I either see Carol, or some old memories of the people I've absorbed,"

"Was this normal the first time with your powers?" he said, giving her a concerned look that she had become so familiar with.

"Usually it only lasted for about a week after I absorbed the person," she admitted, "Then they just kind of faded away, but now they're all coming back at once,"

"Like the time you used Shadowcat's powers to fall through the Danger Room floor?" he asked quietly. She hadn't told anyone, but he had guessed.

Rogue nodded solemnly, "Yes," She didn't mention the time she had awoken one night and find that she had used Magneto's powers. She would hate to cause a commotion because of her powers _again._

She could handle this, Rogue thought, well aware that pride was one of the seven deadly sins.

"How long has this been going on?"

"A couple of weeks," she admitted.

"And you don't want to go to Ororo about this?" He was startled and there was a slight amount of alarm in his voice.

"I'll be fine," She smiled, thought it was rather forced.

X

"Remy?" addressed Warren, "I need your help,"

The Cajun who had been—reluctantly—grading those damn papers for his students looked up, relieved to have a distraction, "Sure, with what?" Chasing down a mutant, recruiting, juggling, Remy was willing to do just about _anything _to get him away from these papers.

"I have a friend," he said. Remy was well-aware which direction those types of conversations went, "And I want to convince them to go to Ororo because of the problems they've been having but they don't think that it's that big of a deal. But I think it is,"

Remy began to frown. Maybe this _wasn't _one of those: 'I have a problem but I'm going to pretend that my friend's the one with the problem because that doesn't seem suspicious _at all'_ type of scenarios.

"What kind o' problems?"

"Their powers. They're very…complicated, to say the least" said Warren, "They don't want to talk to Ororo because they think they can handle it, but I think that if this person doesn't see someone soon…Well, actually I'm not quite sure how their powers are going to progress. That's why I wanted your help so we could both try to convince—"

"Why so worried 'bout this _person?_" Remy lifted his chin just slightly and stared down at Warren, scrutinising, and a new idea already rapidly forming in his mind.

"Well," he answered, looking a bit flustered, "She's a rather good friend and I've been—"

"Ah, so it _is _a girl, _hahn?_" Remy lent forward a bit, his grin only increased and his ebony eyes sparkled with amusement as Warren pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, "Well who be th' lucky _fille?_"

Warren found it to be a good time become so fascinated in his shoes and didn't meet his eyes, "Just someone I met at the institute—"

"Y've known this girl for less than a month an' y're already this smitten with her?"

"I never said that I—you…Remy," he finally said, looking quite ruffled. He carefully chose not noticing his friend's amused face, "I just need some help, all right?"

"Whatever y' say, _mon ami," _he grin only widened. Remy could teach him enough to get each and every single female—excluding Ororo, of course—wrapped around his pinky finger, however, he doubted that Warren was the type to play around like he did. Not to mention Remy didn't think that the Institute could handle personality like his. "If y' take m' babysittin' duty at eight for th' next month, Remy'll help y' win th' heart of y're dear bonnie lass," He hated having to spend his Saturday evenings watching the little brats run around in the Recreational Room…

"But I'm not trying to—wait. Bonnie lass?"

"Pirates of th' Caribbean thing," He waved it off dismissively.

Warren gave him another funny and confused look, "But I never said that I wanted to…"

Remy wasn't listening, but rather smirking to himself. He had just opened up his Saturday evening schedule. _Finally_, Remy thought, he could make Happy Hour at Harry's. It was definitely going to be a good day.

X

Since Xavier's was technically a private boarding school, the headmaster—or rather, the headmistress—had complete control on who she deemed appropriate to be a staff member, regardless of teaching credentials. Remy was hoping that they would be able to find some new professors by the time the three of them moved on with their lives.

Despite what Rogue said about returning home or travelling, Remy saw her staying at the Institute to teach and become a senior member of the X-Men. He envisioned Warren becoming a successful businessman much like his father, but also most _unlike _his father.

He usually only saw Warren and Rogue at meals, and even then it was like a battlefield. Several times a week, one or both of them would be sharing the monitoring in the same Recreational Room. Sometimes on a spare weekend they were able to collapse in the staff room together and hog the television to themselves and share stories about the students and all of the crap that came with them.

It was…nice. Not great, not spectacular, just _nice;_ a comfortable background in his life. It was like a poker game that he had carried from New Orleans, only this time he held all the secrets of his past in the cards that were neatly packed away in his belt. He had _all _the cards and he could pick and chose which ones he cared to share.

Very nice.

"Hey, guys,"

"_Bonjour, chere,_" said Remy, not looking up from his solitaire game on a small table in the east Recreational Room.

"Hello, Rogue," Warren said from the coffee table.

Suddenly, Remy felt something constrict in the back of his chest that made him feel suddenly…anxious. He frowned, stopping his game. Knowing that it wasn't possible for this feeling to be _his_, but rather the result of his empathy that was radiated off of someone nearby. Remy looked up, confused and suspicious, and observed the room.

Kitty and Piotr were deep in conversation on the loveseat near the far wall, and Lance Alvers was challenging anyone who would even look at him to a game of foosball. Warren's head was hunched over his textbooks, his nose nearly dragging along the pages. His eyes would occasionally look up from their work only to turn a page or look over at Rogue who was seated on the windowsill, reading her book.

Remy's eyes narrowed sharply into black swords and he stood from his seat.

"Warren—"

"There you three are," said Ororo, "Logan needs you to replace a couple of tiles in the foyer. And Warren? One of the students is stuck on the ceiling. Would you mind…?"

Remy remained standing for another moment before following Marie out of the room towards the shed to get supplies. He wanted to send Warren a severe glare, but he wasn't looking in Remy's direction.

Yes. Everything was just _nice._

X

Storming and huffing around the mansion after he finished didn't seem to make him feel better an hour later. He didn't mention his new findings with Rogue as they worked; she had found it an amusing game to try and guess about his life and girlfriend in New Orleans.

For some reason the fact that the human pigeon liked _Rogue _severely bothered him. He didn't really care about being a third wheel if the two started dating, but the fact that it was _Rogue _of all people. The very first person he had formally introduced himself to at the Institute. The same girl who had brooded over a gallon of ice cream and, granted, the same girl that he had held hostage a month before. Water under the bridge, he brushed off quickly.

Remy looked down the hallway and watched as the students enjoyed the main Recreation Room and he thought of challenging one of the kids to a game of pool. But something seemed slightly amiss as Remy approached the room for further inspection. The students were slightly louder and raucous than they usually were. Music was blaring and even a table had been overturned.

There were no adults.

And if there were no adults supervising the kids, the adults had a suitable reason to leave their charges unattained. If the issue was so important, then Remy had good reason to believe that they would be in the same place to discuss the matter. He mentally scratched off the staff lounge because he had just been in there. That left the possibility of the War Room or the Main Office.

Since he was just a floor away from the latter, Remy quickly ascended the stairs and found the door slightly ajar. He could hear murmurs coming from inside and he leaned in against the crack between the wall panel and the door.

"_I know that it was inevitable and bound to happen at some point but I…I don't really see a way out of this one,"_

Remy frowned deeply at the sound of Ororo's voice.

"_Why don't we ask some of the parents for donations?" _he heard a professor suggest. Remy vaguely recognised the man as Sean, or Banshee as he called himself occasionally.

"_Ninety percent of these kids are runaways. The rest come from average families who couldn't afford to,"_

Warren and Rogue, who had been discussing some author or another, walked around the corner to see their Cajun friend listening intently to the conversation inside. Immediately in an unsaid understanding between the three, they silenced.

Rogue sent him a wordless, _"What are you doing?"_ and he, proudly not glaring at Warren, motioned them over to his crouching position on the floor near the crack of the door. Once they squatted next to him, he cupped a handed over his ear and mouthed, _"Listen,"_ Their ears were perked carefully so they could have a chance at catching a possible word.

"Is it really okay for us to be eaves-dropping?" Warren whispered.

"_Shhh!" _hushed Remy and Rogue.

"We _are _technically staff members," whispered Rogue.

"And we're still technically _students,_" Warren added in a slightly louder tone. He had never really been one for breeching a courtesy code.

"_SHHH!"_

Remy and Rogue, however…

They must've been overheard by one of the teachers inside because no one was talking. They heard someone take two strides towards the door and swing it open just as the trio attempted to back away.

Ororo held the door in one hand and stared down at her students with a blank expression. Her feet were wide apart like a military officer that demanded respect from her co-workers and subordinates.

"There is a reason why we don't want the students in the conference room," she told them, but her tone was tired, not firm, "But I figure that there really is no point in telling a professional thief and his friends to keep out, is there?" That bit was directed at Remy who she suspected in being the ringleader, "So we would appreciate it if you did not go around spreading this information," with that said, Ororo held the door open and allowed Remy, Rogue, and Warren to enter, all looking somewhat sheepish.

"So what's going on?" Rogue asked, taking a seat on the sofa on the side of the room filled with a little over a dozen teachers.

"We're broke, kid," Logan said gruffly, a cigar hanging out of his mouth and a cloud of smoke hovering around his face.

They three froze, shocked. Rogue never really thought of the financial situations of the Institute before, or even where it got its funding. But now thinking of Xavier's without any financial support…it was ground shattering. It hadn't seemed possible.

"We've sold all the horses and equipment in the stables," one of the professors said, "Nearly broke little Sarah's heart,"

"That should only buy us a month at best," Ororo sighed.

"How did Xavier keep the school running before?" Rogue asked.

"Most if it was inheritance from the family," she explained, "He received his brother's share as well because Cain was—_is_…indisposed now. He also set up several funds in the bank which should have developed and kept the school going for at least another decade or two but," she spared a quick apologetic glance at Warren, "A couple of months after Senator Kelly was killed, Worthington Labs intervened and the insurance and interest are currently on a sort of hiatus and the money isn't accessible until some legal reasons are sorted out.

Warren sighed, burying his face into the palms of his hands and tried to ignore the stares.

"Remy can call The Guild," he suggested suddenly, "I might be able to convince them to wire some money up here," It was an _incredibly _long shot after what had occurred and gotten him thrown out of New Orleans. But if Bella said that things were clearing up and if she was able to sweet-talk a couple of people…

Ororo gave a short hollow laugh, "Remy, if there's one thing that your father taught me it's _never be in dept to a thief,"_

It certainly sounded like something Jean-Luc would say.

"Perhaps we can extend our services," An unfortunately familiar voice informed them.

With a growing sense of anger and dread, Rogue turned to the doorway where she saw Jamie Madrox, or Multiple Man as he called himself, standing next to a confident and self-assured looking Mystique.

**X  
-:TBC:-**

**A/N:collapses: Thirteen pages! But what a fun chapter to write! They were mostly short scenes smashed together, but I think it worked out all right. Of course, there are several _Pirates of the Caribbean _references in case you haven't noticed Probably because I've just recently seen the second one _IN FRENCH_. **

**I hope that little side-story about Gene and Finny from _A Separate Peace _doesn't sound _too _foreboding. It is a rather good book and I completely recommend it **

**I wonder what Raven and Jamie have to say…?**

**_Chapter Eight Previews: _**Gimme about ten days to get this one out

_"Dude," Jamie said, "You always follow the naked blue chick,"_

_Mystique didn't even flinch by kept her all-knowing and mysterious smile. The woman really was one of the few people in the world that had a way to get under Rogue's skin._

Finances  
Magneto  
Nightmares (has there _been _a chapter without them?)  
Belladonna  
Worthington Labs  
A different type of war…

**h t t p / L u n a 6 2 4 4 2 . L i v e J o u r n a l . c o m - My misdemeanour adventures in France for the upcoming nine months. Maybe I'll even post a sneak peak every now and then **

**--  
**_Ta for now!  
_**Love From Luna**


	8. Because We're Friends

**"Angels and Demons"**  
**By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On:** 30 May 2007  
**Chapter Eight  
**"**Because We're Friends"**

**X**

"Mystique," Logan growled, claws at hand in a split second as everyone jumped to their feet but Ororo who held her hand up quickly and silently telling everyone not to move, "How'd you get past security?"

"The same way I did the last time," she answered him; not feeling threatened at all by being in a room full of well-trained mutants.

Something was making Rogue's heart beat faster than normal, the same something that made the air suddenly too thick to breathe. Her stomach churned painfully as she looked on to the blue woman who caused so many so much pain.

Ororo's back was unusually straight, "Raven," the weather witch regarded her rival coolly. The static electricity crackled off her like an aura and made the rest of the room's occupant's hair stand on end.

"Ororo," Mystique matched her tone and demeanour.

"What do you want?" she asked stonily.

"As I've said, we're here to…_assist _you,"

"No," said Logan, making it clear that his decision was final, "Now get the hell of the property,"

"Who's this now?" Remy asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Mystique," Rogue answered faintly, her eyes never leaving the blue woman in the doorway. Her blood felt like ice and she swore that her heart would fail her when she first walked in, "She was an accomplice of Magneto before she was shot with The Cure," And the woman who nearly had her killed on several occasions, she mentally added.

"Do you think she's with him now?" Warren asked

Mystique, as if having heard their conversation went on, "I find that it would be in your best interests to hear my proposal. What Erik didn't seem to care to notice when he left me on Alcatraz," the smallest trace of a falter, "was that I still had full access to all of his bank accounts on _all_ continents. He never bothered to alter any of the information after the laboratory was destroyed. Or perhaps he had wanted to but," the delicately feral smirk was back, "I transferred all of the money into my personal accounts which I would be willing to donate to the Xavier Institute, no strings attached,"

The money was being held in front of their faces, tempting and teasing them yet they all knew that it was undoubtedly tainted, obtained in less than honourable ways.

Rogue could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickling and her fingernails were digging into the leather couch.

There were so many questions that she was bringing to the table but Ororo's, "What do you want, Raven?" question voiced what was on everybody's mind.

She didn't hesitate, "I want to be here when you face Magneto and be a part of your force to stop him," She seemed genuine enough (in Mystique terms that is) but the room's occupants were doubtful for obvious reasons. They were all quite aware of Magneto's betrayal to her and vindication seemed to be a distinct trait of Mystique's…but so had manipulation and cleverly crafting webs of lies.

Rogue distantly wondered about Mystique's positioning with the government. She had tipped them off with some information concerning Magneto, so had they granted her clemency? What about now with her powers active once again? What if she just needed the institute as a cover? Could the X-Men really house a criminal?

Ororo didn't touch the subject, shocking everyone, but changed her gaze, "And why are _you_ here, Jamie?"

"Dude," Jamie said as if the answer were obvious, his voice light-hearted and carefree like he was ten years younger than his actual age, "You always follow the naked blue chick,"

Mystique didn't even flinch by kept her all-knowing and mysterious smile. The woman really was one of the few people in the world that had a way to worm herself under Rogue's skin.

Ororo's nostrils were flared angrily and her usual calm and open face was twisted and contorted into so many emotions that the three found themselves devoid of any hint to what she may have been thinking.

"And what would you want to do? Just live in the mansion and have full access to everything?" she Ororo.

"We can teach," Jamie said, although Storm's focus was solely on Raven, "Word on the mutant grapevine is that you're short a couple of teachers,"

Rogue could tell that she bit back a scoff, "And what,_ pray tell_, are you qualified to teach?"

"All maths up to Advanced Calculus,"

There was silence until Logan snorted derisively and people started murmuring amongst themselves.

"And _you_, Raven?" said Ororo with acid humour, "When you weren't blowing up the Liberty Statue, Alcatraz, and assassinating world leaders, did _you_ receive a decent education?"

"Actually," Mystique said coolly, "I majored in Psychology and received my bachelors in Biology while also impersonating a professor of Pedagogy," she supplied almost teasingly.

The sun disappeared rapidly behind dark gray clouds and lighting struck a statue on the front lawn. The room's occupants seemed to blanch at Ororo's unhappy demeanour and the strong wind currents picking up outside.

Rogue vaguely wondered that if Mystique weren't blue, if she would have paled like the rest of the room.

"Desperate times, desperate measures," Raven Darkholme said as she folded her blue arms delicately. For a moment, her and Ororo did nothing but stare into each other's eyes with loathing.

"Everybody out," Ororo said suddenly, her eyes never leaving Raven's as there were cries of protest and confusion, _"Get out NOW!"_ she snapped angrily.

The room went silent with shock. Ororo _never _lost her temper or never had the need to raise her voice. For a moment, no one moved, but then one by one the professors stood and slowly walked out of the room, casting the weather witch unsure glances as they left her behind with the enemy.

"You three," she looked over at Remy, Warren and Rogue, "especially,"

Raven Darkholme locked eyes with Rogue for the first time and something flashed behind those haunting yellow orbs. She reluctantly looked away when Warren pulled at her elbow.

"It's not our place," he whispered quietly as they walked to the door.

"You too, Logan," said Ororo more calmly.

"What?" he barked, head snapping back at her. Clearly he had thought that he would be an exception.

She inhaled deeply, "_Please leave,_" said Ororo, "And don't listen to our conversation. Take those three to the Recreational Room and make sure they don't do the same," Rogue heard Remy make an annoyed noise as that last bit was directed in his direction, "Then get Jamie situated in Scott's old room,"

Logan growled as he grabbed Warren and Remy and led them down the hall, knowing that she would follow. Rogue looked over her shoulder one last time at the closed door and could only wonder what was going on behind it.

X

Raven Darkholme was to stay. Ororo's decision had been mysteriously final.

The entire mansion was on edge for at least two weeks after her arrival. There was not a single soul in the school who knew what Ororo and Mystique had talked about and those who were betting on a serious catfight were sincerely disappointed.

It had been strategically planned: _Professor _Darkholme was to only teach the older students and classes of a mass quantity. They would be able to handle themselves should she have anything up her sleeves, or so Ororo had silently prayed. She would not be allowed anywhere near Cerebro or the Danger Room—cameras had been installed in various discreet locations and outside her bedroom door and window to insure this.

Mystique had also agreed to a more _appropriate _attire for teaching in the school. It was quickly learned that she was an intense and hard teacher and nobody _dared _turn in their papers late for _her_ class…

But for the first time since Phoenix…things at the mansion were looking up. Even with the enemy helping them.

Rogue wanted to hate her so badly, but Mystique made it difficult by keeping the mansion in business. Classes were smaller, the teacher/student relationships were more developed, and things weren't as tense as they used to be.

But yet…it didn't go unnoticed by Rogue that Raven's mouth would quirk upwards as she cast a look in her direction and that her eyes would linger on Rogue just a little bit longer than necessary. It was like she knew than she was telling…

Rogue couldn't help but get the feeling that whatever she and Ororo discussed about privately largely affected her stay. The only question was _what _had transpired between the two?

"Y' tryin' to burn a hole t'rough her head or somethin'?" Remy asked amusedly at breakfast not to soon after.

Rogue blinked; suddenly realising she had been staring at the blue mutant who read the newspaper nonchalantly.

"Or something," she answered.

Warren looked up from his bagel, "Are…you okay with her working here?"

Rogue looked at him sharply, "Of course," she said, "Why wouldn't I be? Other than the fact that she's a cold-hearted murderer who nearly had the whole mutant race registered, upturned, and destroyed on numerous occasions, I mean," she hissed.

"Stormy's overlookin' those lil' facts," said Remy, "An' most o' the staff members,"

"But you usually leave the room if she's in it," he started.

"Y' always glare at her," Remy added.

"You refuse to contribute at the staff meetings when she's there,"

"An' y' won' say—"

"Ugh, it's just personal and I don't want to talk about it, okay?" she snapped.

Warren eyed her warily and Remy watched the interaction between them interestedly.

Thankfully, the bell saved Marie who seized the opportunity and leapt out of her seat to clear her dishes.

"I gotta get to the other side of the building," she muttered somewhat guiltily as she hurried to put away everything she had gathered.

Warren nodded acceptingly, "See you at lunch, Marie," he waved, "You heading to the Danger Room, too?" he asked Remy.

The Cajun tore his eyes away from Rogue and nodded mutely. He had been so quiet lately and it didn't go unnoticed by either Warren or Rogue who shared a silent look.

"See you," Rogue pulled a thin smile.

The last of the few students filtered through the door to get to their first classes before Logan made his rounds around the corridors to make sure no one was skipping.

When Mystique spoke into the quietness of the room, Rogue had to force herself not to jump in surprise. She could have _sworn _that Mystique had already left…

"He's coming after you, you know," Raven said coolly once the door clicked shut and Rogue found herself trapped.

Her grip tightened, "You don't know that," If Magneto was returning to the East Coast, surly he would be aiming for the X-Men in general and not just _her, _right? "And I could have _sworn _that he abandoned you"

Mystique's stature never faltered, "He's been interested in your powers for quite some time ever since Ellis Island," she informed her, "I can only imagine how curious he is about you know that your powers have manifested once again and you've had an upgrade, apparently,"

Rogue went blank.

She didn't want to think about how the blue mutant knew about Carol. But at the same time there was _so much _that she did want to know. All it would take was a slide of hand…a brush of skin…

And a lifetime of Raven Darkholme haunting Rouge in her mind.

"Go to hell, _Mystique_," she snapped, leaving the room quickly as she could, well aware that a pair of haunting yellow eyes followed.

X

"You've been kind of quiet lately, Remy," said Warren as they boarded the hidden elevator.

Remy shrugged indifferently.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No,"

Warren seemed to accept this answer for only a moment, "You know, Remy," he said, "It may not look like it, but I'm actually a pretty good listener if you need someone to talk to,"

Seeing how Warren _wasn't _actually going to let the topic drop, Remy answered vaguely, "Just some crap goin' on at home,"

"Anything I can help with?"

"Doubtful,"

"Problems with your family?"

Remy gave him a dry look, "I never signed up for th' Spanish Inquisition,"

Warren looked a little sheepish and scratched his neck guiltily, "Sorry…Marie and I have just been worried," He had been referring to her as Marie more and more lately, Remy noticed, "But I can understand that you'd be having some problems with your family if you ran away," Remy couldn't recall how much he drank the first night to feel so free to divulge that kind of information, "And…I can kind of understand where you're coming from, having done the same thing myself. So if they've found you and that's who you've been talking to on the phone with so much recently…" he trailed off, "It might make you feel better if you talked about it,"

"It's m' girlfriend," muttered Remy. Though sometimes Belladonna was able to get a hold of Theo, Mercy, or Henry. He really was a horrible person; he thought with a shake of the head, he was just using her to keep in touch with his family.

Warren only paused for a moment and Remy assumed that Rogue hadn't told him and for that he was grateful. Warren was also able to take notice of the tone and how it wasn't too thrilled with the idea of speaking to his frequent caller, "You…don't miss her too much?"

"Not too much,"

The elevator door pinged and opened.

"Have you talked to her about this?"

Remy needed to give Warren some credit on his ability to piece things together, "We've got a complicated situation," he admitted, "S'long as she still wants t' keep it together, th' longer I need to keep out o' the city," As long as she wanted to keep pulling their two families together, the longer he would be staying in New York. That wasn't to say that he didn't like Xavier's…but it just wasn't home.

Remy expected some of Warrens' words of wisdom and wasn't disappointed.

"I'm possitve she's a lot smarter than you give her credit for, Remy," he said, "I'm sure she'll soon figure out that it's not mutual,"

X

Warren's words didn't reassure him much the next day when Rogue brought it up after having walked in on his time with Bella on the phone again. She had said nothing that afternoon up until their two-hour Danger Room rotation session.

"What's the girl's name?" she asked at the water cooler.

Remy looked up, confused and surprised. Confused as to why Marie would bring up his would-be-wife and surprised to see that she had pealed away the layers and gloves and that her shirt showed just the barest amount of stomach.

"From back home?"

"Yeah. The clingy girlfriend,"

He remembered their conversation not too long ago when she walked in on him on the phone, "Belladonna,"

Rogue made a face that caused Remy to laugh.

"Don' look at me, _chere, _Remy didn' name her,"

She shook her head, "Blonde?"

"Got it in one,"

Rogue smiled crookedly as she sat down on the bench with a decent amount of careful space between them with her plastic water cup in hand, "How long did you date?"

Remy sighed noiselessly, "We never really dated," he said carefully. For some reason it was easier to talk to Rogue about this sort of thing rather than a fellow man.

"One-night stand?" she guessed.

He shook his head, "We've been friends for a long time," he explained openly, "It was kinda difficult for a while 'cause she an' her family were from th' other side of N'Awlins, if y' know what 'm tryin' t' say—"

"Oh god," interrupted Rogue, "Don't tell me you played the role of the charming thief and she was—is—some social upstanding spoiled little rich gi—"

"She's a trained assassin," Remy wasn't insulted in the slightest bit, but rather amused by her expression. "Our families don' get on well,"

Rogue blinked, "Wha…?"

"Remy's trained t' steal, an' Bella's trained t' kill," he put it simply, "Our families didn't like th' idea o' us bein' friends until we were older an' they decided that we should get married—" he was thankful that Marie cut him off, because he wasn't sure how much more he would have said if she hadn't.

"_Married?"_ she gasped.

"Married," he confirmed.

She stared at him in dumbly for a moment. Remy vaguely wondered what was going on in her mind and what she was thinking of, simultaneously wondering if it had been a mistake to tell her this until she blinked and shook her head.

"Well I'm sure you two would make a 'beautiful' family," she teased, snorting slightly as she was pulled out of her shock, "_Belle _and _beau_,"

He gave her a lofted look, "What can I say? Our families are very vain people,"

"Clichéd is more like it," she countered, "Two families both alike in dignity…something, something…star-crossed lovers…suicide, blaming the parents, all that jazz,"

"Sounds 'bout right," Remy's lips quirked amusedly.

But Rogue wasn't finished, "An' I bet you're gonna do something equally cliché for the proposal like going to the top of the Eiffel Tower or something…" she rolled her eyes.

He didn't say anything on that, neither confirming or denying that he would allow himself to do something so horrendously cliché for a marriage proposal or even marriage itself, "Remy's been t' France a couple o' times. Mostly Paris actually,"

She easily fell for the change of subject, "Have you ever stolen anything from the Louvre?" Rogue's heart sank at the thought of hearing about a famous work of Michelangelo or someone being stolen sometime soon on the news. (A/N: LUNA WAS AT THE LOUVRE LAST WEEK xD Everything's still there, I promise!)

He snorted, "Th' only thing Remy's stolen from th' Louvre is a keychain from th' gift shop,"

"I don't know whether I should be scolding you or laughing at you,"

A bell rang.

"Rotate!" Logan yelled.

Students groaned or cried in relief as they moved on to their next activity in the room.

"He made Remy's water break shorter than all th' others," Remy accused irritably.

"It's just your imagination," said Rogue, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as they heaved themselves off the bench, "I've got one-on-one yoga with Warren. You?"

He said in an indifferent voice, "Remy's teaching th' junior squad basic boxing,"

She smirked, "Fun,"

"Get going, Gambit!" Logan snapped, pointing to a group of ten or so kids that looked around thirteen years old conversing lightly between themselves.

Remy rolled his eyes and waved Rogue off as he walked away. Still smirking, she shook her head and took her time wandering over to Warren in one of the corners, well aware that she was stalling.

They had supposed that yoga might help Rogue. Perhaps little by little she might be able to keep her psyches at ease and quiet. At the same time she would be working to worm away the gift of flight from Carol by starting out with a simple meditation practice before moving on to levitation. It had helped several telekinetics in the past and they had hope for Rogue.

Unfortunately, she had already given up and didn't even give half-hearted attempts to the exercises.

"It's not working," she informed Warren pessimistically.

"It won't work if you keep thinking like that,"

Silence.

"Still not working,"

"Keep trying,"

"I think—"

"Don't think about thinking. Just think about breathing," Warren cut in with a smooth voice that held well-practiced patience, concentrating on his own.

Rogue's brows furrowed, "I can't _think _about _not thinking _and breathing at the same time," she said in an irritable voice.

Warren peaked open an eye and saw her sitting tensely in front of him, quite the opposite of what yoga was supposed to do. She would grind her teeth occasionally, having a personal inner-battle, drum her fingers on her knees and grumble out an annoyed phrase occasionally.

He sighed.

"Look," he said, unfolding his legs out from underneath. Rogue opened her eyes and proceeded to do the same, "What exactly happens when you think, levitate or just relax?"

"Carol," she said. A one-word answer.

"But you can be indestructible and use your strength without a problem, correct?" he pressed.

"That's because it's already watermarked into my DNA and I can't help physical alterations, interior or exterior," Rogue explained the memorised speech given to her by Dr. McCoy, rolling her eyes, "Flying would involve a conscious effort,"

"Have you ever tried…talking to Carol?" Warren tried carefully. Rogue did not look very amused and her eyebrow shot up considerably. "Just a thought, sorry," he amended quickly, "Let's keep trying,"

Rouge rolled her eyes and was about to come back with a retort when a piercing pain in between her temples caused her cry out quietly and clasp both hands around her head. It had never hurt so much, not even when Striker attempted to annihilate the entire mutant population.

She couldn't see. It was like she had been pulled into another world where colours, faces, places, and the like of dozens of people hit her like a truck all at once. Yet somehow it was all so…familiar…

"Something's in here! Something's in here—!" Panic. 

"_Damn it! I hate this stupid rotation system—!"_

Annoyance.

"_Rogue…"_ said a voice. A voice she had heard only once the day she met Warren and Remy, _"Come with me…"_

"Shit, Stripes—" Worry. 

"_I love it when he smiles like that—"_

Lust.

"…set me free…" it continued. "She doesn't deserve to have both of them—" 

Envy.

"_I don't need this bastard's help with the drill—"_

Pride.

"…_you can be my queen…"_

"_Get it out of here! GET IT OUT OF HERE!" _Carol was scared…?

"Rogue?" Warren shook her shoulders slightly, "Rogue, are you okay?"

She held back a gasp as she was pulled back into the real world, "I-I'm fine," she said immediately.

It was gone. Whatever had happened to her mind…whatever it had been…it was gone and all was unnaturally quiet. Even Carol's voice could not be found.

"I think we're done for the day," he said slowly, not believing a word but did not want to ask a question that would sound affronting. Warren stood and held out a hand to help her up, "Let's go get some lunch," Yoga had been Rogue's last rotation for the morning and she would be more than eager to leave a little early.

She nodded and looked around. Logan had a set of worried eyes on her, but other than him, everyone was going about their business. Rogue waved to him slightly as a sign to show that she was okay. He seemed to accept it and went back to working with the students.

She supposed that she could have acted a little more grateful for everything Warren was doing to try and help her, but her powers were a little more personal. Her thoughts drifted to recent developments her mind.

In a way…she was exited. This sudden power surge of hers could only mean that her powers were evolving and she was getting closer and closer to controlling them, right?

It was that sole thought that kept her from going back to Ororo.

She could handle this.

X

"God, last night I heard her screaming all the way down the _hall_," said a girl to her friend as they waited for their elevator to arrive and take them to the sub-levels, "I thought she was being attacked or something,"

Warren, who's face had been buried deep behind a book as he walked towards the garage to get to his last evening class at the university, slowed his pace and quirked his ears up. Even the most innocent looking were prone to a bit of casual eavesdropping and gossip.

"What was it then?"

"Nightmares, I guess," the first girl shrugged, "I didn't want to touch her so I had to pull the pillow out from under her head to wake her up. Thought she was about to _kill _me…"

Touch. A keyword. Warren had come to almost a complete stop and didn't notice how tightly he was gripping the book. Something was amiss with Marie…

"And then, get _this,_" the girl continued, "You remember Mr. Summers' power? The read beams? When she woke up, _those _came out of her eyes and shattered the window and the top half of the forest out back,"

"Really?" said the second, surprised, "I thought the backyard looked a little off today. But she's okay now, isn't she?"

Warren waited to hear the reassurance from the first friend so that he could pick up his pace and get to school; he was running a bit late…

"I dunno. She practically threw me out the door after making me swear on my life not to tell anyone else—er, you can keep a secret, can't you, Erin?"

He could afford to miss a couple of classes.

The book snapped shut, unnoticed by the two girls and his direction changed considerably.

He could talk to her on his own…but then he would feel like they were keeping something from Remy. But perhaps it would be better for him to confront her one-on-one so she wouldn't feel threatened by having them both starting to ask questions? Or maybe it would be better if Rogue knew that she had people caring for her…?

He hesitated only slightly as he approached Remy's sprawled figure on the couch, but cleared his throat nonetheless.

"Remy?"

A grunt.

"Has…has Rogue mention to you anything about having nightmares?"

His eyes peaked open.

"Everybody has nightmares," he said, closing them once again. Hell, he'd had plenty of those in recent months. But with Rogue it was different, a tiny teasing voice supplied in the back of his mind. She was one of the few he dared to call a friend.

"Nightmares that send you into screaming fits, force optic beams out of your eyes that were luckily aimed out the window at the time and only hit half the forest?" Warren's tone was dancing on the borderline of affronting.

But he had Remy's attention and again, his eyes opened again.

"When?" he asked.

"Last night, according to two girls who share her hallway,"

"Where's she now?" Genuine worry was skilfully kept out of his voice.

Warren glanced at his watch, "It's half-past eight," he said, "But I think she turned in early tonight,"

Piercing red and black eyes analysed Warren for a moment with a flicker of an unknown emotion before Remy said, "Let's go,"

X

_She couldn't see colour._

_She couldn't see anything, in fact, but somehow she knew her eyes were open. She was being pushed in from all sides, regretting each and every breath she took because it increased the pain—_

_Oh, god, _the pain…

Nothing was making sense. As the metal splinters were forced under her skin she felt as though they replaced the humanity she was losing. The more they drove under her skin and scraped her bones, the more animalistic she felt. She could make out the figures beyond the glass and she could feel a beast stirring in her chest, begging to be set free. Her sanity and the thoughts that made her human were both dancing on a very fine line. 

_She was drowning; the beast was surfacing._

_Unknown strength was found as she howled and broke the bonds. Like Sampson, she was going to bring down the house._

She saw red.

X

She gasped into consciousness at the sound of a squeaking door.

"Jesus Christ, are you two trying to give me a heart attack?" said Rogue, grasping her chest tightly to stop her thumping heart and used the other to quickly wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on her brow.

Remy and Warren snickered and quietly shut the door. It was then Rogue noticed the pillows they had at hand, "What are you guys doing…?"

"Since we've all had a bad day an' y' be having nightmares," Remy told her and continued when she was just about to cut him off indigently, "Remy an' Warren decided we'd have a lil' sleepover. Scoot over, _chere,_" He threw his pillow to the right side of her head, and Warren's to the left.

Rogue groaned as the bed was disrupted, "It's too hot for this," she complained, reaching for her gloves on the nightstand, but Remy stopped her by snatching them away.

"Y' kiddin'?" he asked incredulously, "With Mystique in th' mansion, Stormy's turned into 'n ice queen. Barely reached sixty degrees today,"

Rogue couldn't help but agree a she searched for another excuse to keep two young handsome men out of her bed.

Oddly enough, it was rather difficult.

"And," Warren added, "Remy and I are wearing knee socks, pants, long sleeves and gloves—"

"Actually, Remy could only find a pair o' mittens," He held up his purple-clad hand. Most of his gloves were missing fingers so he could use his powers more easily on heists.

"We've taken care of everything,"

The next thing Rogue knew, the two of them were crawling in from either side of the bed with a sheet in between them just in case. Blushing furiously, she pulled the covers to her chin, not looking at either of them in the face, "This is so embarrassing," she muttered, "I don't need anyone to check for monsters in the closet or the bogeyman under the bed. I'm eighteen not eight, thanks,"

Remy sent her a saucy smile, "Y'know Remy, _chere,_" he said, "Any excuse t' get inta bed wit' a _belle femme,_"

Rogue gave him a flat look as she pointed to her other side, "And Warren," she said, "You dancing on both sides of the rainbow, Cajun?"

He waved it off as nothing, "As long as he stays on his side of th' bed, an' keeps his hands t' himself, s'cool wit' Remy," Warren's romantic interest in Rogue temporarily put aside.

Warren rolled his eyes.

She snorted out in muffled laughter and rubbed her eyes lightly.

"You better not get used to this," she warned, her eyes peaking through, "Ororo and Logan and Ororo are going to be furious if they find—"

Remy scoffed, "I could handle that badger with one hand behind m' back an' a 'gator in th' other,"

"But you can't outrun the weather," said Warren knowingly.

"_Mais non,_" Remy sighed, "I s'pose not,"

"What do you think has been going on with those two, anyway?" Rogue asked, falling into a comfortable conversation as she propped her head against the headboard in order to see them both.

"Pussy-cat and Stormy?" said Remy.

"What do you mean?" Warren leaned over on an elbow.

"They've been spending an awful lot of time together is all," she said, shrugging thoughtfully.

"Well, they are trying to run a school full of rowdy mutants," said Warren.

Remy added, "An' someone's gotta keep that madman on a leash,"

Rogue rolled her eyes, "Not like that, I meant, ack, never mind. I suppose neither of you would be interested in talking about our professors' love lives,"

They shared incredulous looks for a moment before breaking down into a fresh wave of laughter.

Rogue loved laughing. It came out smooth as dark chocolate and was just as addictive. She sighed deeply in contempt and contemplation. Both young men turned their heads in her direction, sensing something was wrong with the girl that had been able to arouse such uncertain feelings in both of them.

She said to them, "Do you ever get the feeling that something's going to happen?" asked Rogue suddenly, "Like you're on the brink of something really, really bad? It can only get so good before everything goes horribly wrong?"

Neither of her friends answered and waited for her to continue.

"I can't explain it," she admitted reluctantly, "But I just can't help but worry that something's about…about to happen. To all of us,"

"Paranoia?" tried Remy, but Warren looked slightly more concerned.

"Do you want to go to Ororo about it?"

Rogue shook her head no, "She's got enough to worry about. I just guess it has to do with what's been going on these past few weeks, y'know? And with Mystique now…" she rubbed her forehead.

Warren stared at her, "She was with you on Ellis Island," he concluded.

"With Magneto," she nodded, eyes sealed shut in attempt to block away the memories.

"She tried t' kill _you?_" Remy said, pulling back slightly, "An' Storm's lettin' her work here?"

Warren and Remy's complaints and opinions soon quickly followed until Rogue cut them off quietly.

"But she's saving the mansion," she sighed, "It would be selfish of me to make her leave. Professor Xavier…" her voice took a softer tone, "Professor Xavier once told me that everyone has to face their own personal inner angels and demons…the good things and feelings we think we're too conceited to feel and all the bad things that hold us back. Maybe she's just…one of those,"

They fell into another lapse of tired silence, but not one out of awkwardness. Rogue worried about the future of the mansion and all of its occupants, enemies and friends alike. Remy and Warren both worried about the woman lying next to them who was far ahead of her years and classmates. Both young men wanted Rogue to be happy like she deserved to be.

"You worry too much, Marie," said Warren from just above her head, "Try to just be a kid for once…you're only eighteen," he reminded.

"I would," she muttered back quietly in agreement, "There's just not enough time,"

"We'll make time for you," Remy told her firmly. His accent had almost disappeared entirely.

Another thing Remy and Warren had in common was the fact that neither of them had the ideal childhood. Rogue younger than them both by several years and was the one corner of normality in their lives. She held no foul opinions towards them and they returned the favour with much appreciation. She had grown up with an average family until she was sixteen and from there on out, her life had been plagued with bad luck and misfortune for nearly two years.

Both had failed people in their lives, and both did not want Rogue to travel their same paths. They had been used as tools, demonstrations…pawns in life's game. They would look after her; protect her.

Maybe they all had forgotten what it was like to be a child.

For Remy and Warren, it was only what Rogue wanted that mattered anymore. They knew that only one of them could be with her.

Warren wanted her to be happy, and Remy wanted to give her the world. Maybe Rogue would need the world in order to be happy, or maybe she needed to be happy before she could have the world, but neither would be able to guess or decide for sure.

They looked over Rogue who had shut her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep for once, her chest rising and falling peacefully showing that she was just as human as the rest of them…and both young men knew that a silent war had begun.

**X  
****-:TBC:-**

**A/N:** Dun dun duuun! And the plot thickens! But then again, you all knew that it would happen eventually

WeeI'm a horrible person. mumblegrumble ten days, indeed grumblemumble A seven month hiatus! That's over half of a year! Uuugh…and I just can't help but feel that I owe my loyal GGG readers more chapters after all this time --; Thank you for your patience 3 I'm afraid that I can't make any promises about the next chapter because I'm going away this summer…

**IMPORTANT:**

_Speaking of the upcoming summer…I'm going to Arizona for six to eight weeks for summer school meaning, er, coughs, even though this chapter was _ridiculously late and due in October, _there's going to be another dry spell until August, _

_I am so so so so sorry._

_If it makes you feel any better, I am going to be _so _suffering with the jetlag. I leave France the fourth of June and I then I leave for Arizona the ninth so I'm going to have a nine-hour difference to adapt to. So yes, dear readers, Luna deserves to suffer for that horrible cliffhanger(s) and the large absences._

But for your enjoyment…a preview!

_He didn't wear his helmet because Rogue supposed that he thought it would not be needed after the Professor's death._

"_Why are you here?" Rogue asked him, emotions carefully avoiding the surface of her face. She let the wind play with her hair and made notice of the fact that her hands were still bare and therefore she, too, was dangerous._

-

"_He looks familiar," Rogue commented, studying the footage closely._

"_Probably because that's my father," Warren said almost darkly. When Marie turned look at him surprised, she saw that his face had gone ghost white and his fist clutched the soda can so tightly that Rogue could hear it crack under the pressure._

_-_

"_Hey, ho, to the bottle I go, to heal my heart and drown my woe! Rain may fall and wind may blow, but there still be many miles to go!" _

**Fairly vague…but you'll understand later ;0)**


	9. Sing a Little Song

**"Angels and Demons"  
By: **Luna Mae  
**Updated On:** 4 April 2008  
**Chapter Nine**  
"**Sing a Little Song" **

**X**

Rogue didn't know what woke her late that night. Perhaps it was the sudden charge of electricity in the air that she felt that led her to drag her feet out of bed.

Or maybe Remy was hogging all of the covers and one of Warren's wings would occasionally jostle or tickle her, (the feathers were not susceptible to her powers). It was distracting, but not at all entirely unpleasant.

Either way, it led her to carefully manoeuvre herself out of the covers and silently make her way to the other side of the room. Halfway in the doorway she spared a glance at the clock on her nightstand that read two fourty-seven before she, quietly as possible, shut the door.

The halls were empty, there wasn't another sound other than here breathing, and the moon cast an eerie glow through the windows at the other end of the corridor. She suddenly aware of how alive she felt.

Tip-toeing barefoot on the wooden floor she was silent as death, afraid of waking someone. For now, the mansion was hers. But what was there to do in the middle of the night when one could not sleep?

Watch the television without having to go through WWIII to get the remote? Get some work done for school?

Go to the kitchen and enjoy the moment with a tub of leftover ice cream…?

Yes, Rogue decided, that would be a perfect idea.

With every intention in mind to do so, Rogue went down a side staircase to would take her to the main level, passing an open window as she did so. She knew what the window overlooked—the memorial markers for the three former leaders of the X-Men—and she usually found it hard to stomach the image of those large grey stones in the beautiful courtyard.

It was by chance that when she was chose to pull her hair over her shoulder that her attention was briefly pulled towards the view outside the window.

The stones were the same as they were everyday, imposing, solid, and cold. But what was different that time was the something that stood before them.

Her heart dropped to her feet, but that didn't stop her from moving. If anything, they only moved _faster._

Something twisting in her chest and something in her brain, a distant emotion of longing, hatred, detachment, and anxiousness pulled her towards the memorial. With every step she took, a heavy weight seemed to settle in her chest.

Soon, her feet were barely touching wood floors, then soundlessly tapping on the outdoor brick paths and finally being tickled by the blades of grass. She slowed only when she was twenty feet away from him.

"Magneto," she acknowledged bravely. Maybe she had left her fear back in her room. Or maybe she hadn't really woken up yet and thus was unable to think about consequences.

He didn't appear to be startled, only turning slightly to see what disturbed him. He didn't wear his helmet because Rogue supposed that he thought it would not be needed after the Professor's death.

"Why are you here?" Rogue asked him, emotions carefully avoiding the surface of her face. She let the wind play with her hair and made notice of the fact that her hands were still bare and therefore she, too, was dangerous.

"To pay my respects to an old friend,"

It was only then did she notice _which _memorial marker that that Erik Lensherr was standing in front of—Professor Xavier's. The idea that he had come all this way just to stand at the marker seemed almost ludicrous.

Rogue looked at him incredulously and her voice shook angrily, "That's why you've been travelling across the country and overturning military tanks so you could put _flowers _on the grave of someone you help _kill?"_ It didn't seem very plausible.

"I am old, Rogue," he said quietly. She was taken aback by the tired man's tone. The man who now resembled her grandfather that she had left in Mississippi not a mutant overlord. "Very old…" he trailed off. She knew that he had been fifteen during World War II…Erik Lensherr had to be at least in his seventies. "And I am afraid that I am too tired to battle you this evening so if you wish to kill me I will not be able to stop you from doing so,"

It disturbed Rogue greatly that she was tempted to do so.

The man had purposely tried to mutate the prime members of the _United Nations _at her own expense, could have saved Dr. Jean Grey if he hadn't stolen the helicopter, and the man took away John, one of her friends. So why couldn't Rogue bring herself to attack him? To hate him? Make him suffer like she had? Even things so they were square? Eye for an eye?

Was it because it suddenly seemed possible that the master of magnetism was…dying?

Her eyes suddenly hardened, _"Mystique," _she glared at the man.

The supposed impostor looked mildly startled at the accusation, "I assure you, Rogue, that I am Erik," he waved his hand lightly in the direction of a metal chair set aside and spun it around the garden once before letting it rest back against the stone wall.

Satisfied that it wasn't Mystique trying to pull a fast one on her, she decided to give a fair warning, "You've put the flowers down," she said frostily, "You can leave now,"

"Patience is a virtue," he said lightly.

"Not one of mine," she answered, "_Or_ Mystique's," Seeing how she had Erik's undivided attention, she continued, "She's here. She's staying in the Institute as a teacher under the assumption that she'll be the one that gets to kill you when you meet again," The promised battle against Magneto was the only thing keeping Raven Darkholme tame and docile at the school. If she and Jamie left…once again the school would be in jeopardy along with the X-Men.

In the few weeks she had stayed at the institute, who knew how much she had learned about their home?

"Is she here _now?_" he asked, glancing at the mansion. The surprise in his voice was evident but he looked more amused if anything.

Rogue inclined her head as a nod.

The old man nodded, more so to himself, "Then I suppose I should be leaving," he murmured, facing the marker once more, "I have yet to return to my full power,"

Suddenly attentive, Rogue frowned at this.

"You're…you haven't gotten back all your powers?" she asked warily.

He slowly turned to look at her again, "Of course not. DNA needs months and months to fully repair after undergoing such a strain as _that_,"

Did that mean…her powers weren't even done redeveloping? To what extent could they grow? How destructive could they become to her? To everyone else?

She must've have been locked in her private conversation for a long time because when she looked up again Magneto had gone.

X

"Miss D'Ancanto," said that annoying boy who sat in the third row, second column.

She locked baggy eyes on the eleventh-grader and he seemed to falter if only for a moment.

The night before after forcing herself back to her room and discovering that her bed had been completely taken over was a little more than aggravating, especially at the hour. Remy had ditched the covers in favour of spreading his legs across over half the bed with his arm stretching out and quite possibly smothering Warren. The quilt and sheets were half draped over Warren and his wings in a part-cocoon, part-pitched tent formation and looked creatively abstract.

Rogue would have had more patience if it had been anybody but Magneto she had come from, but unfortunately, her frustration and confusion lead her to waking up her comrades rather forcefully.

"Ouch, _chere,"_ yawn "no need t' shove…"

"_Nnngh mmphrr_…"

"Go back to your own room!" she hissed, untwisting the sheets from around one of Warren's wings, "You're taking up my whole bed!"

"_Chere, _it's three in th' mornin'…can't Remy jus'—?"

"No," snapped quietly.

"_Mmmphr nnnerrgh…"_ Warren muttered in his sleep.

"_Chere,"_ he whined, rolling over on his side and curling into the pillow. It looked as though Rogue wasn't the only person irritable at an early hour.

"_No_," she said again more forcefully, "Now git up, you lump." Using the sheets as a physical barrier between her bare hands and his exposed skin, she pushed Remy halfway off the bed and started dragging a disoriented Warren unsteadily to his feet. He stood quietly and without argument, but looked a little confused.

Remy grumbled, eyes nearly shut, and staggered to his feet unhappily before going to the door.

"Take Warren with you!" Rogue hissed, already fixing up her bedspread.

Warren was, if possible, sleeping as he stood next to her nightstand.

Rolling his eyes that seemed a little more alert now; Remy backtracked and pulled Warren along towards the door.

Rogue didn't see them leave as she climbed under the covers. Though she was almost instantly asleep just after the door closed quietly behind them, it did not stop her from inhaling and registering the sweet foreign scents in her pillow.

"Miss D'Ancanto," the boy said again a little more impatiently. He often found it difficult to respect someone who was barely a year old than him as a teacher.

Rogue sighed testily, pulling herself out of her thoughts, "Yes, Geoffrey?"

"How could MacBeth go from being totally normal and sane to a psychopath or whatever in just a couple of days?"

Her eleventh grade class had just (barely) finished reading MacBeth.

Rogue closed her eyelids and breathed deeply, "Delicately put," she said in a serious tone but her sarcasm was plain and clear, "But to answer what I'm _assuming_ you mean; MacBeth was under a lot of pressure from everybody. His wife, Banquo, the threat of Fleance, and Duncan's sons," she peered around the class only to find them bored, but attentive to their notes, "_Anyone _who was being pushed into murder, royalty, dealing with the scrutiny of their peers, and were influenced by dark magic would be near the brink of their sanity,"

She hoped to move on but Geoffrey hurried to continue, "But the witches said that no one born of a woman could kill him, so how did MacDuff do it?"

Rogue sighed, "Did you _read_ act five, Geoffrey?"

"Yes…"

She rolled her eyes, "Then you should know that he _wasn't _technically 'born of woman,'"

"He was…born from a man?" he tried, but failed, to keep a straight face.

The class giggled.

Rogue counted to ten in attempt to reign in her temper, "A _C-section,_" she explained in aggravation. God, had she been _this_ annoying last year? "His mother died in labour so they had to—"

"_Rogue,"_

Rogue stopped in the middle of her sentence. Had someone addressed her? She peered across the room, searching for a raised hand and locked eyes with each and everyone of her students. They looked at her, confused as to why she had stopped. If they hadn't called to her, had they at least heard it? That voice…it had sounded like it was in the very room with her. What was that tickling sensation in the back of her mind? It almost felt like all the times Professor Xavier had spoken to her psychically. But there weren't any telepaths living in the Institute, she reasoned.

"Miss D'Ancanto?"

"…_Marie…"_ it whispered again. It almost even _sounded _like Professor Xavier.

She froze for the second time. God, her heart was trying to leap out of her chest…

"Um…Miss D'Ancanto?"

"…_Anna…"_

She blinked, and suddenly she wasn't in her second period English class anymore.

_Lights. White hot lights snaking their ways around her in strange symbols she had never seen before. They were circling her. No, _she _was spinning. They blurred into one giant wall of white before disappearing completely into nearly solid darkness._

_And then she was just—_

…_Falling._

"_Miss D'Ancanto!_" cried her students.

X

When she first saw the bright lights in front of her eyes, she panicked, and blinked quickly.

The Med Bay's lights. That's all they were. Not strange symbols surrounding her.

Rogue turned over on the cushiony material and nearly landed on the floor. _The Med Bay._ She repeated in her head.She closed her eyes and sighed; and so she had returned.

She suddenly needed someone with her. To hear a voice to break the silence. Someone real. Unfortunately, all she got were shadows:

"_GET OUT!"_ cried Carol so loudly that Rogue could've sworn it echoed through the room.

Instinctively, Rogue grabbed her head and tried to remember how to block her out. She could hardly find the mental strength to force up her barrier but luckily Carol said no more.

The doors of the Med Bay swished open.

"Rogue?" said a feminine voice that she identified as Ororo's, "I just saw you get up, are you all right?"

Trying to appear sounder than she really was, Rogue said, "Yeah, yeah. I was just… dehydrated,"

"Dehydrated," Ororo repeated flatly, crossing her arms and stopped walking. Rogue could tell that she wasn't buying it.

"And a small headache?" she tried.

"What _kind _of headache?" she asked immediately, "The Carol kind?"

Rogue automatically cringed, "No," she said slowly, "This time I…I heard a…different kind of voice," she admitted this with great reluctance. Rogue had no idea how mentally stable she would appear, even for someone who heard ghosts of whispers daily. Just never like this.

Ororo looked alarmed and her folded arms dropped to her side, "A voice?"

Rogue nodded grimly, "It said my name. Three times," she swallowed, "Rogue, Marie, and Anna,"

"Anna?" she said slowly.

Rogue nodded uncomfortably, "It's my first name. Marie's actually only my middle name. I used to call myself Anna until I moved in with my second foster family when I was thirteen,"

"I never knew that," Ororo commented quietly.

Marie shrugged, "It's not that important,"

"Unless your subconscious is trying to tell you something. Is there anything you want to talk about?" she implored.

"No," she answered, perhaps too quickly for Ororo's liking.

Her teacher sighed in resignation as she looked at Rogue, "Then I guess I can't say suggest anything other than do _not,_" she said with her mouth drawn into a straight line, "under _any circumstances _absorb _anyone _for _any _reason,"

Marie eyed her mentor, slightly annoyed by the near-accusation, "You know I don't like to use my powers," she said.

Ororo nodded, "I know, but accidents happen," she took a seat on the examination table next to her student and pondered on her choice of words for what she wanted to say, "And now more than ever I need you to be extra careful since I can't tell exactly what sort of damage this could do to your mind. If the Professor…if the Professor has succeeded in teaching me something it's that the mind is a very complex thing. And judging by Carol, your headaches, and the incident yesterday…yours is bursting at its seams, even if it doesn't always feel like it."

"Mm,"

Ororo hesitated, "Remy and Warren tried to come and stop by about ten minutes ago," she commented lightly, "But Hank and I figured it'd be better for you to get some rest…you, not too surprisingly, seem to think otherwise,"

Rogue nodded, "I'm fine," she insisted, "Never better. Invulnerable, remember?"

Ororo clearly didn't agree, "Perhaps, but you seem to be suffering from a near-narcoleptic disorder and it isn't safe for you to over-doing yourself. Which is why," she said in a quick distracted, I-just-want-to-get-this-out sort of voice, "I think it's best for you to stay in the mansion for a couple of weeks,"

Marie stared, "I'm under _house arrest?_"

"Strict medical observation, I believe is the term Hank uses," she said with an apologetic smile, "And that means no Danger Room sessions,"

There were worse fates than _that_, Rogue concluded. Though she had not been subjected to any real strenuous activities or battle situations since Carol, a break from the Danger Room couldn't be too bad.

Ororo seized the moment of silence to pat her lightly on the shoulder and leave the room, "Get some water," she said as she left, "Maybe you really are just dehydrated," Ororo didn't buy it, and neither did Rogue.

X

Rogue left the kitchen after a tall glass of water as per Ororo's orders and walked with an eerie sense of detachment towards the staff room. She would put her fifth period's class work on the school's website so they wouldn't have an excuse not to do homework.

She could already hear them groaning now. Since when did she become so evil?

Rogue could only wonder as she turned the doorknob to the staffroom. Not too surprisingly, a busy Cajun who seemed to be spending most of his spare time near the fax machine and tying up the mansion's phone lines already occupied it.

The wired phone was pressed against his shoulders as he used both hands to hold up two different sets of papers and nodding along to whatever the person on the other line was saying even though they couldn't see him do so.

"Mmhm…_oui, chere…oui…non. Mon dieu, non! __Euh…non, ah…_" sigh "_bien sur, chere…"_ He sighed, sounding resigned as he reached for another file. "Non, s'all right, Bella. Remy can go over it again…" the words died in his mouth when he say Rogue standing in the doorway, looking like she was having second thoughts about disturbing him.

"_Remy?_" Bella said over the phone.

Rogue looked no worse for wear, as if it she hadn't just been carried to the Med Bay by Logan a small set of hours ago.

"_You're up?"_ he mouthed, tilting the phone away from his mouth.

She nodded, the corner of her mouth quirking. Her being unconscious seemed to hardly merit any worry from her friends, "_Girlfriend?"_ she mouthed back.

Remy thought about lying to her for a moment but he found himself nodding mutely.

Rogue looked at him understandingly, opened the mini-fridge by the door and picked up a coke before she waved lightly and made an attempt at an exit. She could find another computer somewhere.

"Y' don' have t' leave," he said quickly, momentarily forgetting that he was on the phone with an assassin.

"_Who don' have t' leave?" _Bella asked suspiciously.

"I don't think you need me here right now, Remy," she laughed and left the room without giving Remy the time to respond.

He struggled with words for a moment as he looked at the closed door. "Bella?" he said into the phone after a short minute, "Y' still there, _chere?_"

"_Mm,_"she didn't appear to be very happy hearing another woman's voice in his room.

He sighed; knowing there'd be no easy way around this and rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, "Bella, Remy don't think that…even though things be coolin' down in N'Awlins…that he be coming back for a while,"

He didn't have to see her to know that she was stunned by his answer.

"W-what?"

"_Chere,"_ he said, "Remy's got responsibilities here—"

She scoffed, "_Y' have them here, too!_"

"Bella—"

"_This is your _home!_ Your family! _Me!_"_

"_Chere_," he said steadily, "M' stayin' up north,"

Bella was silent for a moment and Remy didn't know what to make of it until she whispered in a dazed voice, "_Y' don' love me, do y'?_"

Remy closed his eyes and leant back, burying his face in his palms, "_Non,_" he said, "M' sorry," he meant it, too.

X

"Rogue! You're up!" Warren approached her, looking relieved, "We were worried—"

"Shh!" she flapped her hand at him and crouched down, motioning to the closed door, "It's Remy! _Listen!_"

Warren stood there quietly for a few seconds, simply staring at Rogue who was once again so full of life as if she had never seen the inside of a hospital or Med Bay. It took him a moment to blink and collect his bearings as he realised that she was eavesdropping.

"I really don't think we should be listening to his personal conversation—"

"Shh!" Rogue hissed and leaned her ear closer to the crack in the floor, "It's not personal if we all know about it," she hissed.

Warren stood behind Rogue and uneasily watched as she bit her lip tightly and creased her brow intensely at the murmurs she was able to decipher. He wished that he had chosen to go get his books just five minutes earlier so he wouldn't be stopped by Rogue frantically waving at him and motioning him to listen.

"But—"

"_Shh!"_

X

"_But…I…we…_" Bella trailed off uncertainly.

"Bella," he said convincingly, "Y' don' wanna marry me,"

She scoffed, "_I beg t' differ—_"

"Bella," he said again patiently, "Y' don' love Remy," maybe one day he could make her believe it.

"_Yes I do,_" she insisted gruffly, _"An' I must say that y've picked an awful time t' get cold feet,"_ she didn't wait for him to ask what she meant, "Mon père _wants us t' get married again an' y' t' use your powers for our Guild,"_

A cold sense of dread seemed to solidify in his stomach; he had feared something like this would happen. Her guild.

"M' not a bargainin' piece, Bella," he said a little quickly.

"_You're my fiancé!"_ she cried, voice cracking.

Remy cringed.

"Bella…"

"Non!" she exclaimed furiously, "_I wan' t' know what's gotten in t' you! Why are you actin' like this?_"

"M' not actin' like anythin', Bella," he said defensively, glaring at the phone though it was pointless.

The assassin scoffed yet again, "_Then what've we been doin' these past couple o' weeks, Remy, hm? Playin' a game o' 'house' through th' phone? You said I can't visit, y' refuse t' come down for a weekend an' now y' sayin' that y' don' even wanna get married!" _she sounded close to hysterics.

"We're too young, Bella," Remy said soothingly, wondering if his empathetic powers could possibly work through the telephone lines, "You an' me…we've still got so much t' do befo' we start thinkin' 'bout marryin' an' settlin' down…we still can meet people, do things, an' travel—"

"_Don' gimme that royal bullshit, Lebeau_," she said as scathingly as possible.

Remy cringed, "M' sorry, _Belle_," he said again earnestly.

His answer was the dial tone.

Sitting back numb in his seat, Remy stared out the window for nearly a minute. He then leapt up and threw back the door, not bothering to care when he nearly tripped over a sheepish Rogue, or ran into an embarrassed Warren.

He only cared about getting out.

X

She wasn't the only one that had nightmares, Warren had come to realise in the weeks he had known her. And by 'her', Warren meant the only real 'her' in his life. She feared what subjecting herself to Carol would bring, losing her friends and family at the Institute, just as much as she was afraid of losing the battle against her powers.

They were forces of nature in their own right that could never be beaten, but with Rogue, he wouldn't consider it an option. And if he wanted to help Rogue with her fears, he needed to battle his own first.

The opportunity to confront his nightmares and face his fears presented themselves, rather unexpectedly, when the three of them were overseeing the security cameras.

"Never have I ever…" Rogue trailed off, "eaten a bug," she looked at Warren and Remy respectively.

"Once," Remy admitted, "On a dare when I was ten. What 'bout you, pigeon feathers? Eat any worms?"

Warren nettled at the name, "I swallowed a bee once," he confessed.

"A _bee?"_ said Rogue, nonplussed.

He sighed a bit at the unpleasant memory, "It was a couple of years ago when I was on the balcony and drinking a soda. I hadn't realised there was anything in it until it stung my tonsils and the swelled so much that I had to get them removed,"

"Ouch,"

Remy was quick to resume the game, "Never have I ever…" he briefly wondered if there actually was anything he _hadn't_ done before, "Mimed,"

"_Mimed?"_ Warren replayed, making a face.

Rogue had dissolved into laughter the second her mind conjured a picture of Remy dressed in black and white stripes acting as though he were stuck in a glass box. Her laughter only increased at the look on Warren's face, "N-never," she gasped out.

"Never," Warren agreed. Rogue had begun to recompose herself and it was his turn, "Never have I ever…been in love," he finished without looking at either of them.

Rogue's remaining laughter died on the spot. After a split-second of silence in the room, she hesitated before speaking first, "Mm, I guess I haven't either."

The room was silent, and Remy could feel their eyes on him, silently begging for him to tell, to give more information on his ex-girlfriend and what problems she'd brought into his life that he'd been refusing to talk about.

Because, in the end, wasn't it always about a girl?

Remy did not want to answer. He _wouldn't_ answer. Lucky for him, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey," he said, motioning to the main foyer's camera, "Someone just walked it,"

"Didn't we have the gates locked?" Warren asked, leaning back to look at a set of controls.

"Oops," said Rogue, a little embarrassed. No one was supposed to enter the grounds unless they were buzzed in…they must've left the doors open after they let out a group of kids and their chaperone to go the mall. That had been at least an hour ago.

"He looks familiar," Rogue commented, studying the footage closely and trying to decipher what he was arguing about with Dr. McCoy. She saw Warren go still out of the corner of her eye.

"Probably because he's my father," Warren said in such a dark tone that Marie nearly fell out of her seat. When she turned look at him surprised, she saw that his face had gone ghost white and his fist clutched the soda can so tightly that Rogue could hear it crack under the pressure.

"Want us to zoom in?" Remy asked him, motioning to the controls.

Wordlessly, Warren reached over and did it himself while Rogue did a bit of clicking to turn on the volume.

"—_my son and I hold every right to see him!"_

Dr. McCoy's face was stoic, _"Mr. Worthington, you sound confident that your son is here,"_

"_Where else _could _he be?" _he asked in exasperation.

"You tell me,"

Even at the slightly blurry details, Rogue could tell that he was growing steadily angrier, "_If you don't bring my son to me, I swear I will _sue _this institution—"_

"_Mr. Worthington," _Mr. McCoy cut across, "_I have studied at Harvard Law School and I can honestly say that you have no grounds to do so. Your son is no longer a minor and is therefore his own guardian. If he choses not to be in contact with you, it is not either of our decisions to say otherwise,"_

"I should go out there," murmured Warren guiltily as he eyed Dr. McCoy unsurely.

Remy said nothing; he wouldn't know what to do if _his _father who had driven _him _out of his home had turned up on the doorstep and demanded to see him.

"You don't have to talk to him, Warren," said Marie loyally, putting a gloved hand on his shoulder, "He doesn't have any right to be here,"

"He'll sue," Warren said darkly.

"He ain't got nothin' to sue us for,"

"Then he'll de-credit and bring unwanted attention to the Institute or—or _something _devastating to pull me out of here," his very near to raising his voice.

"You're an adult, Warren," Rogue told him firmly, "He can't do anything to you or the Institute,"

There wasn't much they could say as neither Rogue nor Remy had experienced Warren in anything other than his normally pleasant moods.

Remy watched the sleek BMW leave the mansion grounds on a separate camera and he began to wonder…would Bella do the same thing?

With that thought, he remained silent for the rest of their shift and even the hour that followed.

X

"We're going out today,"

"Pardon?" Warren looked up from his book in the kitchen to stare at Rogue who towered over him.

"You, me, and Remy," she said, "We've had a rough week so we're going out for the day,"

The day before had been rather uneventful after his father had left. Remy had been mysteriously quiet for the remaining afternoon, and Marie had gone off to take a nap after having complained about a headache. Warren attended his evening classes dutifully and by the time he had returned to the Institute, nearly everyone was asleep.

Warren gave a wry smile as chuckled slightly, "May I ask where and why?"

"I dunno," Rogue admitted, she had simply awoken that morning with a sudden itch to leave the Institute.

"Did you ask Ms. Monroe?"

She shrugged, "She won't mind,"

Warren sighed, "I'm beginning to think that you've been hanging around Remy for too long,"

"If y're referrin' t' his dashing looks an' charm, then Remy'd have t' agree," Warren and Rogue turned to see the Cajun standing in the room's entrance and throwing a careless wink in Rogue's direction.

Warren eyed him uneasily, but Rogue rolled her eyes, "Let's get going," she said.

"Right now?" asked Warren unsurely.

"No better time than the present, right?" she said in an oddly upbeat tone that seemed to make even Remy raise his eyebrows a bit.

"I'll get m' shoes," he said at last, leaving them alone in the room once again.

Rogue looked at him imploringly, "Are you coming?"

"Of course," he answered quickly, "I just don't know if you should be…" he trailed off unsurely as he eyed her.

"We'll take the jeep," she said, glaring icicles at her feathered friend.

"Okay," he agreed quickly.

Not ten minutes later, they were in the garage with Rogue behind the wheel, Remy in the passenger seat, and Warren stretched out in the back. No one knew how she had acquired the keys to a senior X-Men vehicle. No one asked.

"I was thinking about heading into the city," she said as she carefully backed out of the garage and driveway, "I haven't been shopping for a while,"

Remy and Warren let out barely stifled groans.

"Oh hush up, you two," she rolled her eyes and flipped on her favourite radio station.

X

They arrived in centre city in twenty minutes and stole a ridiculously convenient parking place right on the side of a smaller street. Rogue locked the car doors after they had climbed out and carefully helped Warren into his coat in the safety of an alley's shadows.

Together, they walked on to the bustling street.

"Where to, _chere?_" asked Remy, pulling out a lone cigarette from a pocket.

"I dunno," she shrugged, "Let's go this way," she turned them onto a road as if she had planned on it earlier.

"We could go to the movies," Warren suggested, walking on Rogue's left.

"Nightclub," This came from Remy on her right.

Warren frowned, "At half-past three?"

"Why not?" he wanted to know.

Warren sighed like only an expert sigher could, "What about bowling?"

Remy snorted and opened his mouth to make a mocking comment, but Rogue spoke up.

"What about some drinks?" she pointed a small mobile booth on the corner. Then she added, "And I happen to _like _bowling,"

Remy closed his mouth rather quickly at that and followed her to the small concession stand. Warren and Rogue ordered two cokes, and Remy his usual beer.

"You're gonna get a beer belly," Rogue told him, poking his stomach a little bit for emphasis.

"Remy's been drinkin' beer since he was fourteen," he remarked dryly, "An' wit' no beer belly in sight,"

"Drinking won't solve everything, you know," Warren said in a sort of subdued voice.

"_Non,_" He agreed casually, "But it helps,"

"_Hey, ho, to the bottle I go, to heal my heart and drown my woe,_" Rogue quoted in a tuneful tone as she quirked a smile.

Remy only grunted before popping off the cap.

But Warren caught on quickly and recited more, "_Rain may fall and wind may blow, but there still be many miles to go_," he was fighting to keep his face neutral

Remy looked up, surprised to see that Warren was in on it too, and then glanced back to Rogue, incredulous and confused.

"_Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain, and stream that falls from hill to plain_," Rogue carried on in an aloof voice before Warren joined in with her for the last line, "_Better than rain or rippling brook, is a mug of beer inside this Took!_"

"What th' _hell _are y' two quoting?" Remy demanded to know as he fingered the bottle, wondering if there was a secret message behind the words of that silly poem.

Warren coughed into his sleeve, "It's from _Lord of the Rings_," he explained, thoroughly amused by Rogue's knowledge of the rhyme and of Remy's expression.

As Remy looked at Rogue, silently asking how she knew the poem, she merely shrugged, looking slightly red and sheepish, "I was on baby-sitting duty and we had already watched _Harry Potter_ twice,"

Remy was about to make an interesting remark, but Rogue had already lost interest in the topic. She seemed particularly distracted that day.

"Oh, hey look!" she said, pointing to a corner where a small crowd had gathered, "A street magic show,"

"Did you want to stop and watch?" Warren asked.

Rogue shrugged indifferently but wandered over anyway.

The magician had a painted striped green face that Remy thought looked more like tattoos rather than a temporary fix. His clothing, from what he could see, was only a long dark brown robe under an even darker cloak that he had thrown over his shoulders. His head was void of any hair, even eyebrows, and his eye colour was dark and indiscernible. The man made him uneasy.

He acted innocently enough, Remy assured himself, as he hypnotised a spectator with a small pendulum.

Warren easily noticed how Remy and Rogue suddenly went quiet as they watched the mesmerising street show, "Ice-cream anyone?" he offered them a little loudly so they would hear him over the murmuring crowd.

Rogue turned her head slightly, "Vanilla, please," she answered without even looking.

"Y' can get me another beer," Remy said as he pulled out a five dollar bill while still watching the performer.

Warren sighed, "Then you're going to have to come too because I won't have an ID if I get carded."

Remy stood next to Marie for a moment before he grunted and tore his eyes away and retracted the bill.

"We'll be right back," he said to Rogue who slowly nodded as she watched the performance.

Rogue wasn't sure how long she stared at the man with the coloured face, watching as he moved his arms in arcs and swoops with strange jewels hanging on his arms as he cried out in another language. He pointed to a girl who looked like she might be in middle school and motioned for her to sit on the small three-legged stool. He pocketed all his colourful ornaments save for one that he held out at arms length and began to swing slowly back and forth. Rogue found this very daring as many people feared telepathic mind control and felt genuine fear for the man who so brazenly performed suspicious-looking magic tricks. She was, nonetheless, completely and utterly enchanted as she watched, wondering distantly if everyone else in the crowd felt the same as her.

"You're ice-cream," said Warren, coming up on her left and offering her the small cone, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah…"

"Hey!" said someone in the crowd, but they could hardly hear it over the cheering of the crowd near the magician.

Rogue accepted the cone but made no move to eat it.

"Everythin', all right, _chere?_" Remy asked.

She nodded slowly, "I just got this…bad feeling a couple seconds ago. Let's—let's get back to the Institute," she suddenly felt as though she had made a grave mistake.

"_Hey!"_ the person said again more insistently.

This time, Remy, Rogue, and Warren turned, their eyes locking on a skinny looking boy about fifteen or sixteen and running towards them. He crossed the street in a fast jog and approached them without hesitation.

"H-hey," they boy panted, "You're Marie D'Ancanto aren't you?"

"Uh," said Rogue, staring at him peculiarly, "Yeah, I am,"

The kid looked over his shoulder and shouted to his friends on the other side of the street and waved them over, "Guys! It _is _her!" he looked at Rogue again, "Wow, this is so cool. When I overheard Magneto talking about you—"

"Magneto?" Remy cut it sharply, glancing quickly at Rogue.

"You've been in contact with him?" she asked in a dangerously hushed voice. Rogue could see more friends of his coming over to join him.

"Not since the camp back in California with everyone else," he continued on carelessly, "but we heard he was moving east so we gonna try to meet up with him again. You go by Rogue, right?" She said nothing in response, so he continued, "I overheard him talking to Mystique about your attempt at mutating the world leaders—"

She sputtered, "_My _attempt?"

"—And then we all recognised you on the news—" as he said this, much to Rogue's discomfort, he reached up and lifted a lock of silver-white hair to offer as proof, "—after your powers started to comeback when _they"_ he said this with great distaste, "turned you normal,"

It was all Rogue could take. "_I _didn't try to mutate the world leaders!" she snapped, glowering at the boy so intensely that he shrank back a bit, "I was _kidnapped_ by Magnetoand nearly _killed!_" Rogue didn't notice how wary and apprehensive Remy and Warren had become as they noticed more than half a dozen cohorts of the kid's come over to their side of the street.

The boy's face fell slightly when she told him this and another taller friend of his asked, "But…weren't you there on Alcatraz with the rest of the Morlocks when you were shot with The Cure?"

"I was _leaving_ California by the time that happened!" she snapped again, "And I haven't seen Magneto—" she faltered "—in over a year,"

"You mean," The taller one asked slowly, "you_ weren't_ part of the rebellion?"

Rogue blinked and then ruefully said, "No,"

Which was, evidently, the wrong answer according to them.

Warren gently put a hand on her shoulder, "Let's get back to the Institute," he whispered to both of them.

"Hey wait a second," a skinny girl with almost grey skin spoke up, this time to Warren, "You're _Worthington's _son, aren't you?"

Everyone froze. With the name practically being verboten in the mutant community, and how unhappy the Morlocks were becoming, Rogue shot a quick look at her companions. Should the need arise…

Fight or flight?

"We're leaving," Remy announced for them, beginning to pull on Warren's and Rogue's elbows and turning their backs on their potentially great problems.

"Just like your coward father," said one of them.

Warren stiffened and Rogue's stomach dropped unpleasantly. Remy glared over his shoulder but continued to push the other two forward.

"You're all traitors!" another one shouted after them

"You're weak! Pathetic!"

The jeering they could tolerate, especially as they put a considerable distance between themselves and the violent underground mutants. It wasn't until a half block later when Warren was violently pushed from behind and forced on his knees with his coat over his head. It was a different, older, Morlock who had pushed him and whose leg turned to stone and aimed a kick to her fallen friend.

"_Hey!_" Rogue whirled.

_Fight._

Before she could do anything, Remy's bo-staff came out of nowhere and intercepted the Morlock attempting to take another try at Warren as he struggled to set himself right again.

People were beginning to clear the streets and to Rogue it looked like the sky had gotten considerably darker after such a short amount of time. More Morlocks came charging foreword at the first sign of violence instigated on their side. Rogue braced herself as the girl with grey-skin came charging at her with a fist raised and instinctively snatched her wrists with in a bone-crushing grip.

Literally.

Rogue's mouth dropped in shock as she realised that she had crushed nearly half of the girl's arm. She screamed and writhed even after Rogue mutely let go, shaking violently.

She was _invincible_ now. Rogue had to remind herself. She hesitantly through a punch at the closest person who was about to attack her after seeing what she did to one of their own—the taller boy—and bit her lip when the force threw him to the other side of the street.

Control. She needed to learn _control._

Two of them came at her with a vengeance and Rogue's heart sounded like thunder in her chest. If only she could just _fly…_she would be able to get all three of them out of harm's way.

_Please, Carol,_ she whispered into the recesses of her mind as the two Morlocks came closer and closer, _Help me._ She held her breath and clenched her eyes tightly shut as she felt her heels lighten and her feet roll on to their balls, and then her very tiptoes. Rogue swallowed

_Help me!_

There was a sound of a twig snapping that made her eyes shoot open and her heels set back down as if she had just fallen ten stories. There was a split-second before Warren let out an animal-like howl and fell to the ground, clawing desperately at his back. Her vision was drawn to a slightly soppy mess on his right wing that was hidden behind a flurry of ruffled and plucked feathers.

They had broken his wing.

Sweet, kind and patient Warren who promised to teach her how to fly.

She was hardly aware of the two Morlocks crashing into her and bouncing off as if they had just ran into a brick wall. Time seemed to slow down and she felt like she was in were an out-of-body experience, a spectator in a movie. As Warren was kicked and landed hard on the concrete she could suddenly make out every detail of absolutely everything as it all passed in front of her. Rogue couldn't remember if she screamed his name as he went down, something was gnawing at the corners of her mind and for a moment she couldn't see, couldn't hear, until someone called her name.

"_Rogue!"_

It was Remy, she realised as all sounds came rushing back, and the Morlocks—all of them—had just been thrown ten yards in various directions by an invisible force. She was running towards Warren while Remy was running away.

"Remy'll follow 'em!" he shouted over his shoulder as he starting sprinting after the rapidly retreating culprits, "Call f' help!"

Coming back to her senses she cried, "_N-no! Wait for the others!_" but it was useless as all she could see was the billowing trench coat that had left her in the middle of a street with Warren unconscious.

She knew there were no others. Nobody had known that they left the mansion.

"Wait…" she said again, this time hardly audible.

**X  
****-:TBC:-**

**A/N: THERE IT IS. **

(collapses)

The unofficially ugliest hiatus EVER. **Sorry** about the horrible delay, by the way…this chapter was going to be even _longer_ but once I got to around twenty-five pages I figured that I'd put the rest of it in chapter ten—this way I have a nice cliffie here and more done for the next chap! It feels a bit too choppy so I'll probably go back and **edit **this later…I just REALLY wanted to get it out there.

I can tell you right now that **Chapter Ten **is going to be a pain to write because of, well, BLAH-type _stuff_…should be a fun. **Chapter Eleven** is where things start to pick up a bit and **Chapter Twelve **is when the real fun starts mwahahahahhahaaa…

Oh, and **the song? **My friends are LotR geeks and they used to sing it all the time in eighth grade. Er, they do sing it in the movies, right??

(Has never seen LotR) eheh…


End file.
